by Kathy Dexter
Another blasted argument. Hunter opened her eyes and managed to keep her voice steady. “Please stop speaking to me as though I’m a child incapable of taking care of myself.”
“Your behavior tonight suggests that’s the problem. And so I’ve looked after all these years. Willingly, of course.”
Hot anger warred with self-doubt. Aunt Miranda had a real knack for slathering on guilt whenever Hunter suggested doing things on her own. She gritted her teeth and suppressed sharp words eager to escape.
A small woman with curly white hair and vivid blue eyes bustled into the room. She reminded Hunter of Cinderella's fairy godmother in the Disney movie. Over one arm, she toted a brown wicker basket containing small jars and a variety of bandages. “I'm Clarissa. Logan sent me. Do you mind if I look at your shoulder?”
The woman must have flown to get home and back. Hunter slid the top of her costume to one side so the older woman could examine the injury. “Go ahead.”
Aunt Miranda looked inside the basket. “You’re a nurse?”
Clarissa’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve helped many with my herbal remedies. If the wound is serious, we’ll get her to a hospital.”
As the older woman probed with light fingers, Hunter relaxed. “What’s the damage?”
Clarissa delivered a crisp summary. “No break, but a large angry bruise with some shallow scrapes about to ooze a smidgen of blood. I've brought some potions that should make you more comfortable.”
“Don’t touch her,” Miranda instructed. “That wound looks much too serious for you to handle with your primitive medicines. Hunter’s doctor is here. I’ll have him fetch his bag from the car. I’m sure he can provide us with a more accurate diagnosis as well as proper medication.” She swished the skirt of her Glinda ball gown, clicking her heels on the way out.
No way was Dr. Paul going to give Hunter any of his drugs. She’d had too many of those. “Don’t listen to my aunt. Use your herbals.”
Clarissa cleansed the wound, brushing a hand against the blue dragon. “What a lovely necklace. Do you want to take it off while I apply ointment?”
Hunter held tight to the amulet. “I never take it off.”
“Never?”
“A fine pickle, Miss Hunter.” Ally stood in the doorway batting her Henry eyes. “What scrape did you get yourself into this time?”
Hunter heaved a relieved sigh. “Reinforcements. Get in here.” She introduced her friend to Clarissa.
“Nice to meet you, Ally. Would you help me?”
“You bet.”
Clarissa extracted a jar from the basket and gave it to Ally. “Open this and hand it to me when I’m ready. Theo!”
Harry Potter came running with a bowl, spilling drops of water behind him. “I'm sorry, Clarissa. I hurried as fast as I could.”
She relieved him of the bowl. “You did just fine, child.”
“Will Syrena be all right?” He patted Hunter’s hand as his soft, brown eyes searched her face. “She saved me from the bad men.”
When Hunter saw the look on Ally’s face, she decided a distraction was in order. “You recognize my costume?”
He nodded eagerly. “I've read the book.” He pointed toward Ally. “And you brought Henry the Sapphire Dragon as well.”
“We're a team,” Ally raised a paw, and Theo responded with a high five. Then Ally removed both paws in order to open the jar Clarissa had given her.
Clarissa spread salve over Hunter’s injured shoulder. “This should do the trick.”
A comforting, warm heat eased the deep throbbing. Soon free of pain, Hunter exhaled a low whistle. “That worked fast.”
“No soreness?” Clarissa placed a large elastic bandage over the wound.
Hunter flexed her arm in several directions. “Nope. Good as new.”
“I'll be the judge of that.” Merlin swept in, carrying a medical bag.
“This is Dr. Fleming,” Miranda said behind him. “He'll examine the patient.”
Dr. Paul removed the dressing and flung it aside before Hunter could protest. He did a double take. “There doesn't seem to be a laceration. Are you sure she was hurt?” He felt along the arm. “Nothing broken.”
Miranda strode to his side and peered at Hunter’s arm. “I saw the red welt, the scrapes.” Miranda glared at Clarissa. “What have you done?”
“Mercy!” Clarissa winked at Hunter. “Those herbs must have been more potent than I thought.”
The doctor wrinkled his nose in apparent distaste. “You must have been mistaken about the patient's condition.” He checked Hunter’s pulse and took her blood pressure. “I'll leave some of those pills I’ve prescribed in the past. They’ll help the girl relax and get a good night's sleep.” He nodded to Miranda and marched out.
Hunter’s mouth twitched. She wanted to wave at him, shout in his ear, “I’m right here. You don’t have to talk over me as if I can’t possibly understand what you’re doing.” She'd tired long ago of Dr. Paul's pretentious attitude.
“This experience has been too traumatic for you, my dear.” Miranda hugged Hunter, mindful not to touch her arm. “We should leave for the city first thing in the morning. At least there you'll be safe from gun-toting thugs.”
“And the city’s crime-free?” Hunter had no intention of leaving Mystic Lake. She touched the book hidden in the cape. “Besides, I have a book signing next week.”
“Ally can make adjustments in your schedule.” Miranda picked up the pills. “Take a couple of these, as Dr. Paul prescribed. In the morning, I'm sure you'll see I'm right about going home.” She patted Hunter on the cheek. “I’ve always known what was best for you.”
Ally stood in front of Miranda, hands on dragon hips, looking pretty defiant. “Hunter has a great opportunity to connect with the fan base in her home town. Going now would generate all kinds of bad publicity.”
“On top of that, I intend to do research for the sequel to The Sapphire Dragon at the Museum of Magic,” Hunter said.
Miranda looked displeased. “What are you talking about? I thought you were only dabbling with this writing of yours. You can't possibly expect to maintain this flash-in-the-pan success.”
“Guess you haven’t read the reviews,” Ally said.
Nice to have someone on her side, but Hunter had to fight her own battles. “Time to let go, Aunt Miranda. I’ve made up my mind to stay in Mystic Lake.”
Miranda paled, silent for several seconds. When she spoke, her tone was the conciliatory one she used whenever Hunter resisted her authority. “It's hard for me to see you all grown up. But there must be something more worthwhile, more substantial, for you to do other than write fluff for children.” Her lips curled. “Besides, the Museum of Magic isn’t a real center for research. My parents built it to display artifacts from their travels. Souvenirs of their fascination with the world of the supernatural. A place of illusion. A waste of your time.”
“Have you forgotten the comprehensive library they installed?” Ally said.
Miranda snorted. “A collection of nonsense.”
“A history of magic.”
“Fantasy. Rubbish which appeals to people who think the occult exists. No sane individual believes in such things.”
“Like children who believe in the magic of a blue dragon and want to read about more of his adventures?” Ally picked up her tail and did a little twirl.
Despite enjoying the tennis match of words, Hunter interrupted the volleys. “Perhaps there's more to the contents of the museum than what you see on the surface, Aunt Miranda.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would thieves target old books and paintings unless a profit could be made? Perhaps on the black market?”
“My thoughts as well,” Logan said from the doorway.
Max Winters stood next to him, wringing his hands. “This is unbelievable. We had a security system in place, yet the thieves didn't set off the alarm.”
“What else was taken besides books?” Logan aske
d.
“Some original artwork, as well as antique objects of magic worth a great deal of money. Unscrupulous buyers would snatch them up.”
“Can you get me a list of what the thieves grabbed?”
“I thought they dropped everything,” Max said.
“We don’t know if they’d already grabbed a couple loads before they were stopped,” Logan said.
The curator gulped. “I’ll draw up that list. Come to my office if you or your men need anything more from me.”
After Max rushed off, Logan made his way to the sofa.
“So you're a policeman,” Hunter said.
“A detective, to be more precise.” He inspected her arm, then nodded to Clarissa. “Nice job.”
“What happened to your costume?” Hunter asked.
Logan grinned. “Not quite the outfit to wear to work. I had just changed when Theo came running, yelling that bad guys had you.”
“Any sign of them?” Hunter asked.
“No. They must've had a car waiting on the other side of the woods. A couple patrolmen are checking to see if they left any evidence behind.”
“Syrena and I saw the thieves,” Theo said.
“Too bad they wore ski masks,” Hunter said. “We couldn't see their faces.”
Theo drooped. “That's right. I guess we can't help after all.”
Logan wrapped an arm around Theo’s shoulder. “You did the right thing coming to get me, bro. You didn’t get hurt. Plus you saved the museum’s books.”
Theo's face brightened. “That's right.”
“You were very brave,” Hunter told him.
“But next time, come to me first.” Logan took out a notebook. “Describe the burglars as best you can. Then both of you will have to come into the station tomorrow to sign a formal statement.”
Theo gave a superficial but accurate description of the number of men, approximate height and build. Hunter didn’t have much to add until she remembered the tattoo.
Logan turned his notebook to a blank page and handed it to her with his pen. “Sketch what you can remember. Tomorrow I’ll show you some pictures of tattoos and see if you can pick out one similar to your attacker’s.”
Hunter was almost finished with the drawing when the white cat streaked into the room, tail flicking crazily in the air, teeth bared, a deep growl rumbling.
CHAPTER 3
H UNTER STRETCHED A HAND toward the cat.
“What are doing?” Miranda gasped. “That creature intends to attack.”
Hunter’s aunt had never liked cats. But this one deserved some praise, which Hunter provided. “This brave cat charged the thief who attacked me, fought with only teeth and claws as weapons.”
“Good girl, Shadow!” Theo ran to hug her and received a lick on the cheek in return.
A giant mound of white cotton except for the midnight black tips of the ears and the tail that curled high in the air, Shadow slipped away from Theo's embrace and sashayed toward Hunter. In one bound the cat leaped into the young woman's lap and stretched upward until they were face to face.
The cat stared, unblinking. The eyes were odd, almost hypnotic––one a luminous, white-flecked crystal blue, the other a shadowy rich green.
Hunter had seen those eyes before. Where? When? Deep inside her brain, the black curtain shrouding her memories shook violently, strained to pull back. One piercing pain after another zapped through her skull.
Hunter stifled a groan and waited for the spasms to subside as they had in the past.
The cat lifted a paw toward Hunter’s face.
Miranda drew a sharp breath. “Watch out! She's going to scratch you!”
“She's bleeding.” Hunter’s fingers stretched toward the cat, then stopped. “She clawed one of the thieves. Maybe the blood is his. A way to identify him?”
“I’ll get a sample.” Logan took an unused cloth from Clarissa's basket.
When he finished, Shadow rubbed her head against his hand, turned and meowed at Hunter. The cat jumped down and padded across the room. Growling, she circled Miranda three times before sprinting through the doorway.
“We should try to locate her owner,” Hunter said. “Even if she isn’t bleeding, she might be injured. The thug she attacked hurled her pretty far.”
“She probably went to my place,” Clarissa said. “I’ll be there shortly and will check her over.”
“She’s yours?”
Clarissa smiled. “Shadow belongs to no one, but whenever she arrives in town, she stays with me.”
“And wanders about rescuing damsels in distress?” Hunter asked. Had the cat deliberately set out to save her? Seemed pretty farfetched.
Theo skipped over to sit on the sofa next to Hunter. “She’s magical, too.”
“The child reads too many fairy tales,” Miranda huffed. “Like that nonsense in your book.”
Theo leaned toward Hunter and whispered, “I saw you wave your hand like a magic wand and shoot those two men into the tree.”
Hunter placed her finger on her lips. I don’t want others to know this.
Theo’s eyes opened wide. You want to keep your magic a secret?
Shocked, Hunter touched Theo’s shoulder. “Did you say something?”
He wiggled, grinning.
Hunter’s mind wobbled, and her stomach lurched. The same sensations had flooded her during the nightmares.
Theo touched her hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Don’t you know about mind linking?
Stop! A strange sensation twisted Hunter’s insides. She just might lose her dinner.
Okay. His lower lip trembled.
Hunter desperately tried to clear the cobwebs. Did Theo really speak inside her brain, communicate with some kind of psychic ability? She took several deep breaths. Even more unnerving, she had responded to his mind link.
Hunter squeezed Theo’s shoulder and leaned down, her lips close to his ear. “I’m not angry, but I’ve never mind linked before.” Or had she? Before the curtain descended?
He had trouble looking at her. “I’m not supposed to do it unless the other person says I can. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s talk later. When we’re alone.”
“What are you two mumbling about?” Miranda demanded.
Theo quivered, as though Miranda had caught him licking the frosting off the cake intended for the church bake sale.
A distraction should help. Hunter reached into the pocket inside the cape. “Theo reminded me of a book I picked up outside when the thieves dropped their loot.”
“Ooh! Maybe we could get fingerprints.” Ally’s eyes gleamed, something akin to a bloodhound sniffing the air for clues.
“Probably not,” Logan told her. “According to Theo, the thieves wore gloves.”
“I found this hidden inside a larger volume, so the thieves probably didn’t touch it anyway.” Hunter gingerly opened the cover.
Ally leaned over her shoulder. “What does it say?”
“The writing's faded and difficult to read.” Hunter studied the front page. “There's a name. Mary Hawthorne.”
Miranda pressed a hand to her throat. “My mother.”
“Maybe that’s the journal where she recorded her one-of-a-kind recipes.” Max Winters spoke from the doorway where he seemed undecided whether to check on the guests in the ballroom or handle the problem with thieves and the wounded. His body trembled as though it didn’t know which direction to take. Until he could talk about Mary Hawthorne, the woman who’d established the museum. “Your grandmother researched plants and their qualities for healing diseases naturally. That has to be the book you found.”
“I wonder why she hid it,” Hunter said.
“She became very secretive before her death.” Miranda’s gaze seemed to turn inward. “Hid the medicine her doctor prescribed for her heart condition, insisting her herbal remedies did a better job.”
“Is that how she died?” Ally asked. “Heart attack?”
“No. Car accident.�
��
“Oh,” Ally murmured. “I'm so sorry.”
Hunter found herself engrossed in the little book. The handwriting was indecipherable, like a foreign language. Was it some kind of code? She glanced toward the curator. “May I borrow this, Max?”
Max bowed. “Of course. According to your grandparents’ will, everything in the museum belongs to you, to do with as you wish. But the police might have an interest.” He nodded toward Logan.
“My team will take some of the items dropped outside,” Logan said. “In case one of the thieves took his gloves off and we can lift prints. More likely than finding anything on a hidden book. Add it to your list of removed items, though.”
“Oh, my! I can’t believe someone would rob the museum. This is all so upsetting.” Max rushed out again.
Where was the man going? He couldn’t run away and hide. Hunter’s lips twisted at the irony. Hadn’t she been doing the same thing by not remembering her past? She intended to change that.
Theo yawned. “You own the museum? Does that mean you’ll move to Mystic Lake?”
“Who knows?” Hunter told him. “For now, I’m here to sign my book and do some research in the museum’s library can provide for the sequel.”
“I should’ve taken you home a long time ago, young man.” Logan tapped him on the shoulder. “Way past your bedtime.”
“But you have to work,” Theo protested. “And tomorrow’s Saturday. No school.”
“I’ll drop you off, tuck you in, and then come back. Get your jacket and meet me at the car,” Logan ordered. He squatted next to Hunter, his eyes locked on hers. “You okay?”
“Guess I better get some rest, too.” She exaggerated a yawn. “Theo’s not the only one who’s had. . .an adventurous evening.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
More irony. Hunter smiled. “If I do, I’ll write it down and let you know tomorrow.”
“I don’t like the idea of you and Theo landing in the middle of an attempted robbery.” He took her hand briefly, then rose to leave. “Come into the station tomorrow morning to give a formal statement.”
“I’ll be there as well,” Miranda huffed. “To make sure my niece’s rights aren’t violated.”