A Little Something Extra

by Pam McCutcheon

  Amaranth frowned. “But how am I going to signal you?”

  “The buzzer,” P.J. reminded her. “Remember, I had a button installed beneath the counter so you could buzz me whenever you need me to fill in for you at the counter.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Amaranth said with a marked’ lack of enthusiasm. Neither she nor their parents liked the intrusion of technology in their domain and refused to use it. Instead they preferred to yell up the stairs—so unprofessional.

  Amaranth paused, staring off into space with a distracted look on her face. “You know—”

  P.J. hurried to cut her off. Oh Lord, cosmic fruit here we come. Amaranth probably had some wild and highly improbable method of telepathy or clairvoyance she wanted to try. “This is the only method we know will work, we don’t have the time to try anything untested and we do want to make sure we catch the man.”

  Amaranth looked doubtful. P.J. thought her cause was lost until Connor stepped in to second her. “Good idea. If the man knows magic, he may be able to detect its use, but a prosaic, mundane buzzer…why, he’ll never think of that.”

  Amaranth smiled. “All right, I’ll do it.” She shooed them out. “Now go on upstairs and I’ll buzz you when he comes.”

  They made themselves comfortable in the office and Connor chuckled. “Now I know why you’re such a good reporter.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Because you’ve had lots of experience eliciting answers from Amaranth—one of the toughest subjects I’ve ever seen.”

  P.J. smiled wryly. “Maybe, but you got far more out of Amaranth with just a smile than I did with ten questions. How do you do it?”

  He shrugged. “A lot of the Fae are just like her. By the way, what time does the store close?”

  “At five o’clock.” She glanced at her watch. “We have a couple of hours to kill—would you like to play a game?”

  Connor’s gaze turned wry and he quirked a smile at her. Good grief, what did he think she meant?

  Quickly she said, “This game is called Revenge. The winner is the person who comes up with the most creative and fitting way of making Neil pay for his crime.”

  Connor grinned and entered heartily into the spirit of the game. After entertaining each other with wilder and more fanciful schemes, they finally settled on their own preferences.

  P.J. favored locking Neil up in a room alone with an angry Stayle, figuring that would be punishment enough for any man. Connor disagreed, fearing the punishment would be too swift. Instead, he leaned toward calling in foul-tempered boggarts—meddling gnomes—to pester Neil to death.

  They had finally come to an agreement to give Neil to Stayle after the boggarts were done with him when Amaranth came walking in the door. P.J. checked her watch. “Damn. It’s after five. Neil didn’t show up.”

  “Oh, no,” Amaranth assured her. “He came.”

  “He did? Why didn’t you press the buzzer?” Damn. P.J. should have known better than to trust Amaranth with anything technological.

  Amaranth wore a slight frown of indignation. “I did, but you didn’t come. You were probably talking so much, you didn’t hear it.”

  That was hardly likely. The noise from that buzzer would wake the dead—or Amaranth from a trance. It’s one reason P.J. had selected it. “Now, Amaranth—”

  “Let’s just check the buzzer, shall we?” Connor interrupted.

  P.J. agreed reluctantly. He didn’t know Amaranth like she did. Chances were, her sister had thought about pressing the buzzer, and for her the thought was as good as the deed. But if it made him happy…

  They trooped downstairs and Connor squatted down to take a look at the button underneath the cash register. He poked at it for a moment, then looked up at them. “Aye, here’s your problem, the wire seems to have worked itself loose. That’s why the buzzer wasn’t working.”

  Mortified, P.J. gave Amaranth an apologetic look.

  Amaranth stared back with a stubborn set to her chin. “You should have done it my way.”

  P.J. deserved that. “You’re probably right.”

  Amaranth looked surprised and pleased. Connor gave P.J. a pleased nod. “Well, it can’t be helped. We’ll just have to try and find another way to run into Neil.”

  Amaranth smiled. “Oh, no problem. He left a note.”

  P.J. groaned. “You didn’t tell him we were looking for him, did you?” She grimaced at her own automatic reaction. Amaranth wasn’t as flighty as she looked and she deserved to be treated better.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good, I knew you wouldn’t.” P.J. was rewarded by beaming smiles from both her sister and Connor. “Would you please tell us exactly what happened?”

  “Sure. I gave him the book and pressed the buzzer, but you didn’t come down.” Amaranth managed to look disapproving and smug at the same time. “I thought you might be a little slow, so I talked to him.”

  “Good,” P.J. encouraged. “You tried to stall him for us. And then?”

  “He asked if there was anyone else in Vail who knew a lot about magic. I mentioned your name and told him you were my sister.” Amaranth frowned. “Was that okay? You didn’t say I couldn’t say that.”

  “That’s just fine,” P.J. said. “I just didn’t want him to know we were looking for him.”

  Amaranth brightened. “That’s okay, then. When I told him I’d be seeing you later, he asked me to give you a note.” She pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of her voluminous skirt. “Here it is.”

  P.J. smiled at her sister and took the note. “Thank you, Sis. You did just right. Now let’s see what Neil has to say.”

  She scanned the note quickly as Connor looked on in impatience. “Hmm. He actually apologizes for being such a pest…says he wants to make it up to both of us.” She looked up in surprise. “He’s invited us up to one of the huts for the weekend. Says he won’t take no for an answer.”

  Connor looked puzzled. “Huts?”

  “They’re a series of isolated cabins built high in the mountains. You can rent them out as a base to do some backcountry skiing, or ski from hut to hut. I’ve never been to one, but the scenery is supposed to be breathtaking.”

  “Sounds a mite suspicious to me. I wonder what he’ll be wanting?”

  Conscious of Amaranth’s interest, P.J. decided to find some place where she and Connor could talk privately. She didn’t want to have to explain this complicated business to her sister, especially when P.J. had a hard time taking it all in herself. “Well, thanks, Amaranth.” She gave her sister a sincere hug. “We really appreciate what you’ve done.”

  Amaranth seemed to open like a blossom in the sun, and P.J. vowed to give her sister more compliments in the future. “Unfortunately, we have to get going.”

  Connor leaned over to capture Amaranth’s hand and give her one of his Irish blessings. “‘As sure as there are leprechauns to make a wish come true, ‘tis nothing but the happiest of days I’m wishing you.’“ His eyes twinkled with mischief as he smiled engagingly at her. “It was nice meeting you, Amaranth.”

  Oh, no, P.J. wasn’t about to give him the chance to explain that to Amaranth, or they’d never get out of there. Turning to her beaming sister, P.J. said, “Give Mom and Dad a kiss for me, okay?”

  “Sure. Oh, I forgot. Did you borrow my snowflake? I can’t find it anywhere.”

  Connor raised an amused eyebrow, and P.J. glanced at the counter where the large crystal paperweight usually sat. It wasn’t there, but Amaranth had probably used it elsewhere in the shop and had forgotten it. “Don’t worry,” P.J. said, “I’m sure it’ll turn up soon.”

  Amaranth nodded and let them out of the shop into the cold biting wind. P.J. shivered and drew her jacket tighter around her face.

  Connor joined her outside. “And where is it we’re going, lass?”

  “Oh, anywhere—back to the car. I just didn’t want to explain everything to Amaranth and I thought it best we talk in private about Neil
’s invitation.”

  He nodded. “Aye, and I’m not so sure we should be accepting it.”

  “Why not? He asked us to meet him tomorrow. You probably won’t get an earlier chance to touch his hand.”

  Connor frowned. “Perhaps not, but I’ll not be trustin’ the likes of him.”

  P.J. hugged his arm. “Now what could he do that a big strong guy like you, with magic on his side, couldn’t handle?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what’s bothering me.”

  “Ah, come on, Connor,” she cajoled. “Think about the opportunity to catch the thief who’s stolen your sister’s talisman. Isn’t that worth a little risk?”

  “To me, perhaps, but not to you.” He turned to grasp her shoulders and look down into her eyes. “All right, I’ll go, but you’ll be stayin’.”

  Oh, no, P.J. had just as much right to be in on the denouement as Connor. She’d chased false leads all over the world, too, and had been just as annoyed by Neil as Connor had been. She deserved the chance to be there to unmask the thief. Fleetingly, she recalled Madame Cherelle’s prediction of danger in the mountains, but dismissed it instantly. If she reminded Connor of that, he’d never agree to let her go.

  Besides, Madame had also said she’d also find her greatest joy, and what could happen with Connor there to protect her? She shook her head decisively. “Wrong. I’m going whether you are or not, so you’d better just make up your mind to it.”

  Changing her tone, she said, “Come on, Connor, it’ll be fun. After we truss Neil up and you zap him off to the boggarts, we’ll have the hut all to ourselves. We deserve a little vacation, don’t we?” And since it would be the last time she ever saw him, she wanted to ensure the memory was a pleasant one.

  Connor nodded, obviously reluctant. “All right, I can’t stop you. But if there’s any danger, any danger at all, I’ll be sending you on your way. Agreed?”

  P.J. nodded and grinned. “Agreed.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day Connor parked at the store in Vail where Neil had asked them to meet him. It figured—he was late. Electing to stay inside the car where it was still warm, Connor glanced at P.J. doubtfully. “Are you sure this is such a good idea, lass?”

  P.J. grinned at him. “Of course it is. Besides, you have to give me a chance to earn the shoes Stayle is making for me. You’ll see—with your magic and my investigative skills, what could go wrong?”

  Aye, that was the rub. His magic. P.J. still hadn’t trusted him with her real name. Without it, he couldn’t perform any lasting magic on her—nothing that would affect her in an enduring way. That would make it difficult to protect her if the need arose.

  Luckily he’d looked up Neil’s full name, just in case. Though he styled himself as Neil Chalmers, Connor hadn’t been at all sure that was the man’s real name, especially since he was in the movie business. Surprisingly it was the name he was born with: Neil Joseph Chalmers. Connor had resisted the urge to look up P.J.’s name, as well, still hoping she’d tell him of her own accord.

  P.J. must have taken Connor’s silence as consent, for she turned back to the brochure she’d been reading on the hut system.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve lived here all of your life and you don’t know any more about the huts than I do,” he teased.

  Without looking up, she waved her hand dismissive. “Oh, I’ve heard of them, but I’m not much of a skier, so I never paid much attention. It says here that the Tenth Mountain Division Hut System runs them.”

  She suddenly stopped and peered closer. “It also says we need to have someone proficient in avalanche awareness, medical emergencies, rescue, bivouac and route finding.” She glanced up with a worried look. “Do you know this stuff?”

  Connor shrugged. “Some of it. But I’m sure Neil wouldn’t have invited us if he didn’t.”

  “Hmm,” P.J. answered absently as she continued to read the brochure. “Oh, no!”

  “What is it, lass?”

  “Did you know these trails don’t allow mechanized or motorized transport?”

  “No, but it makes sense, so skiers can go from hut to hut without havin’ to worry about running into vehicles.”

  “But I can’t—” P.J. broke off, biting her lip.

  “You can’t what?”

  “I…I can’t imagine how we’re going to get there. There’s no snow, and as far as I know, none is due until Monday.”

  “Why, I imagine we’ll walk.”

  She turned the brochure over to examine the map and groaned. “Walk!” she wailed. “Do you realize how far it is to some of these huts? Lord, I hope it’s one of the close ones.”

  “Are you havin’ second thoughts, then?”

  “No, I just hadn’t planned on walking that far and carrying a suitcase, too.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll test him right away. If he’s the thief, we won’t need to make this trip, anyway.”

  She nodded and glanced out of the car window. “There’s Neil now.”

  P.J. was determined to go along with this mad scheme, even though she’d made it clear she wasn’t at all comfortable with the physical aspects of it. Well, he’d just have to make it as easy on her as possible, and try to get it over with quickly enough so they could get the talisman and go. In fact, why not get it over with now?

  Connor exited the car and approached Neil, who was opening the trunk of his car. This time Connor was going to shake the man’s hand if he had to chase him down to do it.

  Connor strode swiftly up to Neil and stuck his hand out, saying, “It’s good to see you, pal.” Neil could hardly avoid shaking it without a damn good excuse or outright rudeness. And Connor assumed Neil would avoid rudeness since he’d been trying so hard to get them to come along.

  Neil looked startled. He glanced down at his own gloved hand, then extended it hesitantly to shake Connor’s.

  Connor grinned inwardly in triumph and grasped Neil’s hand firmly. If the producer had handled Stayle’s talisman, Connor should be able to feel it even through the thick suede of the glove.

  Connor waited for the tingle that would identify Neil as the thief.

  Nothing but a bit of discomfort. Saints preserve us, the man’s hand was as hard as a rock. Who would’ve thought it? Connor pressed harder.

  Neil gave him a strange look at the prolonged grip and Connor reluctantly let go. There was something odd about that handshake, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what bothered him. Connor wasn’t yet convinced that Neil was cleared, but there was no way to test it, short of demanding the man take his gloves off or wrestling him to the ground to do it for him.

  If Neil wasn’t the thief, that would be very embarrassing, with the potential of leading to a lawsuit for assault. No, Connor would just bide his time and wait for the man to take his gloves off himself. After all, he couldn’t wear them all weekend, now could he? And Connor had waited this long; he could wait a little longer, just to make sure.

  P.J. joined them, casting a questioning glance at Connor. He could almost read her mind: Is he guilty?

  Connor shrugged, and P.J. looked exasperated. He knew how she felt—he felt the same.

  “Hello, Neil,” she said.

  Neil smiled. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation. I know I’ve been persona non grata to you two, but I’ll make it up to you—I even booked all the rooms at the Shrine Mountain Inn hut so we won’t have any company. Have you ever been in one?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Good, you have a treat in store for you, then.”

  P.J. looked a little doubtful. “I was reading up on the hut system, and it says most people ski to them.”

  Neil laughed. “Yes, I’ve skied the trails many times, but you can walk them, too. That’s what we’ll be doing.”

  P.J. didn’t look reassured. “So you know all about avalanches and trail finding and that other stuff they said we have to know?”

  “Sure, I’m a regular here. But don’t worry
, we won’t need it. No snow’s expected until Monday. We’ll be back way before then.”

  “How far are we going to have to walk?”

  “It’s just under three miles from the Vail Pass trailhead. I chose that hut because it’s the easiest trail to hike.”

  P.J. nodded and Connor could see the thoughts flicker across her face. She must have decided she could handle three miles. “Okay, but what about our suitcases?”

  Neil gestured toward the trunk of his car. “Just in case you were neophytes, I brought all the supplies we’ll need, and some backpacks, too. They’re a lot easier to carry than suitcases. No sense in taking two cars, so why don’t you get your gear and transfer it to my car so we can get going? We’ll wait until we get to Vail Pass to distribute the pack loads.”

  Connor glanced at P.J. to ensure she was serious about going. She nodded, and he went to get their suitcases from the car.

  Neil’s trunk was fairly full with the supplies, extra backpacks and other strange odds and ends, but they managed to make the suitcases fit.

  The ride to Vail Pass was a long thirty minutes as Connor listened with half an ear to Neil’s babbling about the beauty of the mountain scenery they were about to experience. When that subject palled, Neil expounded on his film project. Luckily he didn’t seem to need any response. An occasional grunt seemed to suffice to keep the man going…and going…and going.

  Finally they reached Vail Pass and parked near the trailhead. Neil refused all help in getting the things out of the trunk and advised them on what they should take with them and what they should leave behind. He added the bedrolls and supplies, distributing them evenly among the three packs.

  During the entire operation he never took his gloves off, making Connor even more convinced that Neil was the thief. But then, Connor had been wrong before. He winced, embarrassed at the memory of the tricks he’d played on the poor unsuspecting magician. This time he’d make sure Neil was the thief before he took any action.

  P.J. looked doubtful as Connor helped her on with her pack and attached the bedroll.

  “Can you handle this all right, lass? I’ll take some of your load if you want. I’m strong as an ox.”