I tensed. “You realize that’s a compliment for her and not for me, right?”
My mother fingered her gold necklace. “And what? I don’t deserve compliments anymore? I’ve aged out?”
“When do I age in?” I queried.
“Would anyone like a slice of fresh lemon in their tea?” Aunt Thora asked.
Uncle Moyer and Tomas raised their hands.
“The smell of lemons is just heavenly,” my great-aunt said, inhaling the scent before placing the lemon on the chopping board.
“Like you would know,” Grandma said. “The nearest you’ve been to Heaven is Tomas over here.”
“Same,” Uncle Moyer said with a devilish grin.
My mother handed me a cup of tea and I sat at the round table with our visitors.
“How’s your practice?” I asked Uncle Moyer.
Tomas rubbed his husband’s back. “Voted best in the county three years straight now.”
“They don’t call him Moyer the Lawyer for nothing,” Aunt Thora said. She placed a cup of tea in front of each man.
“They call him that because he is a lawyer,” Grandma said.
“And it rhymes,” Uncle Moyer said. “Tomas the Lawyer doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
Tomas winked. “And I’m far too lazy to practice law. I leave the hard work to my gorgeous husband. True grit makes him even more attractive, if that’s possible.”
“I guess the state bar doesn’t know about your extracurricular law practice,” I said.
“Certainly not,” Uncle Moyer replied. “They would disbar me on the grounds of insanity if I told them I was actually a demon drafting contracts with humans.”
“To trade their souls,” Grandma said proudly. “It’s like I raised you myself.”
“My practice isn’t as niche as that,” Uncle Moyer said.
“According to the information I’ve been reading, the FBM has had to intervene in many cases involving demon lawyers,” I said.
Uncle Moyer sipped his tea. “I don’t doubt it. There are far too many unscrupulous lawyers out there willing to dupe unsuspecting humans into unfair bargains.”
I blew steam off the surface of my tea. “You don’t think it’s unfair to take the souls of humans?”
Uncle Moyer straightened in his seat. “My contracts are always clear and in the common tongue,” he said. “I don’t want any disgruntled parties. It only results in headaches down the road for me.”
My mother sailed over to the table with a plate of croissants and set it in the middle. “You two are definitely a case of opposites attract if ever there was one,” she said, and squeezed Tomas on the shoulders with both hands. “At this rate I’d be happy to attract anyone at all—opposite, similar, doesn’t matter.”
“You took the ‘doesn’t matter’ approach the first time and look what happened,” Grandma said.
“That’s my father you’re talking about,” I said. I didn’t care that my mouth was stuffed full of buttery goodness.
“Are you sure?” Grandma said. “I didn’t say the first time she got married.”
I bit my tongue. This conversation could easily go downhill quickly if I let it.
“It isn’t all smooth sailing with Tomas and I,” Uncle Moyer admitted. “Sometimes the opposite issue can cause ripples on otherwise calm waters.”
“Like when?” my mother asked. “You two have one of the best relationships in town.”
Uncle Moyer and Tomas smiled at each other. One was as handsome as the other, especially when they were showing teeth.
“You know Tomas is supposed to act as an invisible hand in this world,” Uncle Moyer said.
“I do dole out the goodness,” Tomas said.
“Except he leaves his feathers everywhere,” Uncle Moyer explained. “It’s almost as though he wants credit for his good deeds.”
“I’m only part angel,” Tomas said, by way of explanation. “What can I say? The human part of me is sloppy.”
“You should see his halo,” Uncle Moyer continued. “I polish it every Wednesday because Tomas leaves his grubby fingerprints all over it.”
“It’s my halo,” Tomas replied. “Who else’s fingerprints should be on it?”
Uncle Moyer shook his head. “I’m just glad we have the time and money to combat these issues. I can’t imagine couples with lots of kids and little money to outsource their burdens. No wonder the divorce rate is so high.”
“You two are lucky in many ways,” my mother said.
“And how about you, Miss Eden?” Tomas asked. “Have you been getting lucky in many ways?”
“Eden couldn’t get lucky wearing a rabbit’s foot tied to a horseshoe,” Grandma said.
Tomas wrinkled his nose. “Certainly not. That outfit would put anyone off.”
“I’m too busy to worry about dating,” I said.
“You don’t look busy,” Uncle Moyer said, noting my heart pajamas and unkempt hair.
“She’s here all the time, hiding in the attic and talking to herself,” Grandma interjected. “She’s like a hermit.”
“I am not! I’m constantly out and about. That’s what happens when you have a job.”
Grandma gave me a sharp look. “Is that a dig at me? Let me tell you something, young lady. I’ve had plenty of jobs and raising your mother was the hardest one of them.”
My mother’s head jerked toward her. “Hey!”
“Well, maybe you’ll meet someone in connection with your new job,” Uncle Moyer said. “That’s how I met Tomas, after all.”
“Don’t boink someone you get out of prison,” Grandma said. “That might fly in Thora’s branch of the family, but not mine.”
“Firstly, no one says boink,” Uncle Moyer replied. “Secondly, Tomas was imprisoned for protesting. He’s a social justice warrior.”
Tomas shrugged. “I am that.”
“Just out of curiosity, what does the FBM have you doing?” Uncle Moyer asked. “Are you acting as a guardian in case the portal reopens?”
I shuddered at the prospect of the portal ever reopening. “No, it’s more straightforward. Any use of magic in my jurisdiction gets investigated.”
“Not any use,” my mother interjected. “You don’t go after us for making potions to heal.”
“Or hinder,” Aunt Thora added, with an accusatory look at my grandmother.
“No, we don’t tend to bother with small traces of magic like that,” I said. “Or good magic.”
“Why not good magic?” Tomas asked. “It seems to me that can be as disruptive to human life as bad magic.”
“Because we generally see so little of it,” I said. “There was an executive order a few decades ago to cease all interference with good magic.”
“So the tooth fairy continues her dark reign,” Uncle Moyer said, his jaw tightening.
“You have issues with the tooth fairy?” I asked.
He frowned at me. “She collects the bones of children and pays good coin for them. She may as well be harvesting their organs.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” I wasn’t about to argue with Uncle Moyer. He could browbeat anybody under the table with logic, except maybe Grandma.
A knock on the door interrupted our discussion. “I’ll get it,” my mother said and disappeared around the corner. She returned a moment later with Clara behind her. Everyone made a fuss over my old friend, making her feel welcome, and I felt a rush of warmth for my family. They had their shining moments—few and far between—but they had them nonetheless.
“I am so thrilled to see the two of you making trouble again,” my mother said, giving Clara a squeeze.
“Yeah, about time you ditched that walking set of boobs,” Grandma said to Clara. “I’ve seen the two of you in town and it made my skin crawl every time.”
“That’s the lotion I made for you,” Aunt Thora said. “I told you it was made with crushed cockroaches.”
Clara took the dig at Sassy in stride. “I’m defini
tely glad to have Eden back. There are some holes that can only be filled by a particular person.”
I smiled up at her. “You just want the rest of my croissant, don’t you?”
“Are you offering?”
I passed her the half a croissant. “Why don’t I show you my fancy digs? I need to get dressed anyway.”
“She means the attic,” Grandma said.
“Thanks for the interpretation.” I scraped back my chair. “It was so great to see you. Thanks for coming over.”
“We expect to see a lot more of you now that you’re home for good,” Uncle Moyer said.
For good.
I resisted the shiver that threatened to overtake me. Instead, I grabbed Clara by the hand and we headed up to the attic to talk in private.
“You’re really living in the attic?” Clara surveyed the boxes and cobwebs. “No one even bothered to clean?”
“It’s only temporary,” I said. “I’m sorry about what Grandma said about Sassy. That was rude.”
“But not surprising.” Clara sat on the mattress while I got dressed. “Sassy is misunderstood. Once you get to know her, you’ll understand her behavior better. She’s more vulnerable than we ever realized.”
“Well, sure. If I puncture her artery, she’s vulnerable,” I said. Wishful thinking, I knew.
Clara wore a vague smile. “Your brand of violence has always been more verbal than physical.”
“And I’m so sorry about the way I treated you,” I blurted. “I know I wasn’t a good friend and I want you to know that I do feel terrible about it. I have for years.”
Clara took my hand and I felt a jolt. Grief washed over me and I instantly knew what I was experiencing. Clara’s feelings. She was experiencing my emotions as an empath, while my magic siphoning skills were allowing me to experience hers. We both began to cry.
“Oh, Eden. I’m so glad you’re home.” Clara released my hand in order to throw her arms around me and the connection broke.
“I promise to never do anything like that again,” I said. I’d bottled up my feelings for so long, and now the emotional dam was bursting.
“I sort of understood,” Clara said. “Even without you telling me. You were never happy here.” She pulled back and inclined her head to study me. “But now you’re back. I’m not really sure what to think.”
I told her about what happened in San Francisco and how I ended up here.
“I’m so sorry, Eden,” Clara said. “I know how much you wanted to have a normal human life.”
I managed a smile. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you again and life at home isn’t so bad.”
Clara cocked an eyebrow. “I just felt your emotions, Eden. There’s no need to lie.”
I laughed. “Okay. Let’s just say my feelings are complicated.”
“I see Anton around sometimes,” Clara said. “Your niece and nephew are adorable.”
“Thanks. I’m just getting to know them. I’m not used to little ones.”
“Think of it this way. You can be the guiding light that keeps them from succumbing to the dark side.”
“I like that.” I sat down to put on my socks and shoes. “Olivia is the one to watch. She’s going to have powers. Ryan is less clear. They keep trying to coax the evil out of him, but I can’t tell if it’s futile. He’s only a year old.”
“There’s plenty of time.” She paused. “Not to change the subject to a less pleasant topic, but have you had any luck with the investigation?”
“Nothing so far,” I said. “Everyone’s been cleared.”
“That’s too bad. How’s Sean taking your involvement?” Clara stifled a giggle. “I can’t imagine very well.”
“I suspect he’s taking the arrival of the new chief even less well,” I said. “As much as I don’t want to be evil, the whole thing fills me with joy.”
“People can’t stop talking about the new chief,” Clara said.
“What have you heard?” I asked.
Clara smiled. “That he’s much too handsome to be a cop in a backwater town like Chipping Cheddar. That’s what Sassy’s been telling everyone since that night at the Cheese Wheel.”
Uh oh. “And has she already sent Tanner packing?”
Clara shook her head. “Have you seen him?”
“Briefly,” I said. “I didn’t linger.”
“Probably for the best,” Clara said. “He hasn’t changed much. You noticed Sassy isn’t wearing a ring. That’s because Tanner keeps jerking her around. I know he’s cheated on her, but Sassy refuses to believe it.”
For a fleeting moment, I actually felt sorry for Sassy. “It’s not like she can’t meet someone else. Sassy is awful, but she’s pretty.”
Clara laughed. “That’s what we used to call her, remember? Pretty awful?”
“But you two are friends now, so I guess that’s not a good nickname.”
Clara cast a sidelong glance at me. “It might surprise you to learn that Sassy has a decent sense of humor, even when it comes to herself. I’ve told her some of our stories from high school, even the ones that don’t paint her in a good light, and she’s been a great sport.”
“You’re right. It does surprise me.” That didn’t sound like the Sassy Persimmons I knew and loathed.
“I think the three of us should get together,” Clara said. “Maybe if we spend time together, you’ll come to see her as I do.”
“We already did, at the Cheese Wheel.” The evening went well. Why ruin it with another one?
“Here’s the thing, Eden. Sassy and I are really close now. I’m thrilled that you’re home and I want us to be close again. I’ve really missed you, but I’m not going to leave Sassy out. It isn’t fair.”
Clara was the most loyal person I knew. It was one of her best qualities, even if—right now—it was working against me.
“You’re absolutely right,” I said. “It would be unreasonable of me to expect you to drop Sassy. She’s been a better friend to you than I have these past few years.” As much as it pained me to say it, it was the truth.
“I forgive you.” Clara and I stood at the same time and I nearly bumped my head on the slope of the attic ceiling. “I always knew you’d come back. This place wasn’t the same without you.”
My chest ached in response to her earnest admission. Leave it to an empath to activate my waterworks. “Thanks, Clara. That means more to me than you know.”
My ringtone blasted, ruining the moment. The James Bond theme song filled the attic.
Neville.
“Excuse me,” I said to Clara. “Duty calls.” I tapped the screen. “What’s up, Neville?”
“Sorry to bother you out of the office,” he said. “I thought you’d want to know there’s been another death in town.”
“Another death?” I repeated. “A murder?”
“Not sure,” Neville replied. “Someone just called the police station to report it.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have listening devices planted all over town,” Neville said. “Standard operating procedure.”
Right. Why wouldn’t the FBM eavesdrop on human law enforcement? I was totally comfortable with that—not.
“You’ll want to hurry,” Neville said. “It’s Dr. Myslinski’s office on Feta Street.”
“The dentist?” I asked. That reminded me that I hadn’t chosen a new dentist since my return home. I was fanatical about a cleaning every six months. Maybe I’d kill two birds…I cringed. I needed a better metaphor right now.
“Yes. He’s at number twenty on the third floor,” Neville said. “Chief Fox is headed over to the scene now.”
I inhaled sharply. “Then so am I.”
Chapter Ten
By the time I arrived, Chief Fox and Deputy Guthrie were deep in conversation as the body was transported out of the building.
“What happened?” I interrupted. No point in waiting for them to notice me.
Chief Fox looked at me with surprise. “Age
nt Fury, how did you…?”
“I have a dentist appointment,” I lied. I couldn’t throw Neville under the bus. His listening devices were worth their weight in gold.
“So did Elliott Bradford,” Sean said. “He never made it.”
“He was found in the elevator,” Chief Fox said. “Looks like a heart attack.”
“Did the elevator malfunction?” I asked.
“We’ve asked the building manager to check. No one noticed an issue with the elevator until another patient tried to leave Dr. Myslinski’s office. They hit the button multiple times until the doors finally opened.”
“And she found Elliott dead on the elevator floor,” Sean said.
“Do we think this is connected to Chief O’Neill?” I asked.
“I don’t see how,” Chief Fox replied. “Bradford was a sixty-five year old man. A heart attack isn’t suspicious.”
I was inclined to agree.
“Not every death is a murder, Eden,” Sean said. “This isn’t San Francisco.”
“No, if this were San Francisco, you’d be asking if they want fries with that,” I snapped.
Sean scratched his head. “Fries with what?”
“I’m about to call his wife,” Chief Fox said. “Man, I hate this part of the job.”
I empathized with that. “By the way, what happened with Lawrence Whitaker?”
“His alibi checked out,” the chief said.
Disappointment settled in the pit of my stomach. I would have been perfectly happy to see a guy like Lawrence get his just desserts.
The entrance door flew open and a woman rushed into the lobby. Her hair was in curlers and she wore sweatpants paired with a pajama top. “Where is he? Where’s my Elliott?”
Chief Fox moved to intercept her. “Are you Marianne Bradford?”
“Yes.” She nodded vigorously.
“I’m Chief Fox. I’m afraid I have bad news about your husband.”
Marianne’s expression crumpled. “No, don’t say it. If you don’t say it, then it isn’t real.”
Chief Fox placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Mrs. Bradford, I’m sorry to tell you that your husband is dead.”
Marianne began to whimper. “How? Was he mugged?”
Great Balls of Fury Page 9