by Cat Larson
“It’s okay. It’s all in the past.”
“I just wanted you to know.”
“And I appreciate that, and… maybe you should check that. It might be something important.”
“Huh?”
“Your phone. This is the second time it rang.”
I looked down at my frogless purse. I wasn’t even sure why I’d brought it along—certainly not to hold money—except to carry my phone. Maybe it was Sage. Could she reach me through this line? I’d told her to call Griffin’s phone if there were any problems.
“Hello?” I said cautiously after pulling it out. The screen had been completely blank. That was a new one.
“Yez. Dis iz Madame Zora.”
“Who?”
“Madame Zora, ze world-famous teller of fortunes. May I speek to Griffin, pleez?”
I made a face. “Griffin?” I glanced at him, and he was making what I assumed was the same face.
“Yez, pleez.”
“Hold on.” I handed over the phone. “It’s for you.”
“Me? Who is it?”
“Madame Zora. Uh, world-famous fortune teller.” I shrugged. “She’ll just keep calling back if you don’t take it.”
His brows knitted then he took the phone. “Hello?... What?... How do you…? Okay, then… What’s that?... Hold on.” He turned around and tapped the waitress at the next table. “Can I borrow that a sec, please?” He pointed to the pen she was chewing on. “Okay, can you spell that?” I watched him write something down on a napkin. “What does… all right, you have a nice night too.”
He gave me the phone. “What was that all about?” I asked.
“I have no idea, but I swore she read my mind.” He handed me the napkin. “Does this mean anything to you?”
It read: Amor vincit omnia.
I shoved it in my purse. “Nope.”
Chapter Twelve
“Keep it down. You’ll wake her.”
I peeked open an eye—where was I?
“Mind telling me why—”
The door shut before I could make out the rest. My vision came more into focus as I zeroed in on a plastic hawk. How’d I get in Violet’s bedroom?
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and padded toward the door. Whoever was on the other side of it either needed to lower their voices so I could get back to sleep or raise them so I could hear better.
I pushed open the door, my head pounding something fierce. “I told you—” Griffin cut off his words, both he and Damon staring at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Damon, although I was a bit curious about Griff as well. “What time is it?”
“Give me a minute,” Griffin told his brother, who responded with a scowl. Griffin came toward me. “Why are you up already? I’m sorry”—he flicked a look at Damon—“did we wake you?”
I rubbed my eyes, looking over my shoulder at the clock radio: 6:08. As in a.m.
Griffin came into the bedroom, shutting the door, and I stepped back. “He doesn’t look too happy,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, well. That’s my brother.”
“What’s he doing here so early?” It was slowly starting to come back to me, although the defroster button in my head was far from working properly. “Aren’t we supposed to be in Chicago?”
“We were four hours ago.”
“Did we teleport back or something?”
He laughed. “We left around 2:00, and I practically had to carry you to the car. You were out cold the entire way.”
I sat at the edge of the bed and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Oh man… how much did I have to drink?”
“Only the two glasses.”
“Really? Then why do I feel like I was run over by a pack of wildebeests?”
“Hmm. Eating half the pizza might’ve had something to do with it. I didn’t even pack away that much. You were probably in a food coma.”
I clasped my hands over my aching belly. That’d explain why it felt like I was about to give birth to a mastodon. I moaned and rolled over.
“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I’ll tell Damon to stop back later.”
“What’s he want anyway?”
“Nothing that can’t wait a few more hours.”
He probably found out that Griffin was with me the night before and rushed over to do damage control. Wait a minute… I patted around on the bed softly. Fernando?
“Looking for something?”
Oh right. He must be under the bed. “No, it’s fine.” I closed my lids only to have them snap back up from the sharp rap on the door. “That was loud,” I groaned.
“Damon,” Griffin hissed.
I lifted my arm, doing some version of a wave then scooted off the bed. “I doubt he’s going anywhere until he talks to me. Let me just get this taken care of and then I can go back to sleep in peace.”
“No, I’ll get rid of him.”
“Believe me, this’ll be easier.” I peered at him through slits. “How are you not tired?”
“I slept on the couch.”
“For what, a whole two hours?” I opened the bedroom door to Damon glowering at me. “Officer Relentless, how can I be of service?”
He glanced around, his neck muscles straining. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yeah, her sleep.”
I shuffled out of the room, stopping short right before mindlessly wandering into the counter. “Is that what I think it is?” Hey, my day was already looking up, and it hadn’t even started yet.
“Yep. You don’t remember?” Griffin said.
“Sure, I do. Kinda.” Another spot on my memory windshield cleared away. My coffeemaker! The carafe was a bit dented but otherwise still appeared functional. It also came back to me that I’d grabbed a handful of intact clothes as well. Sadly, that was the extent of the items I was able to rescue from my apartment. “I didn’t happen to grab any coffee or filters, did I?”
“Not that I recall.”
Darn. “Hey”—I swung my head around—“where’s Sage?”
“You sent her home this morning. You don’t remember that either?”
“Kinda.”
“Why’d you even ask her to stay here?”
“I just felt better having someone watch things while—”
Damon’s throat-clearing interrupted me, along with his impatient foot-tapping. “If you two are done reliving your date night—”
“Excuse me? It was not a date,” I said.
“During the time the two of you took off to gallivant—”
“Gallivant?”
“Across state lines…”
I glanced at Griffin, issuing a silent thank you and he nodded ever so slightly in response. If Damon thought we were “gallivanting” then he knew nothing of the real reason we went to Chicago.
“…someone else died.”
I slapped the side of my head. “Wait—what did you say? It almost sounded like you said someone died.”
“There was another victim.”
“Who?” I whispered.
“Jonny Bellman.”
“Jonny? Holy crud, Damon. Was he poisoned too?”
“Samm,” Damon barked.
“Ow, that was loud,” I said, palming my ear.
“This doesn’t have to be done right this second,” Griffin said. “Give her a few more hours and then—”
“What made you say that?” Damon glared at me.
“Uh, what’s ‘that’ exactly?”
He stormed around the place, making a racket. Or at least that was how it reverberated inside my skull. I sat on the couch and massaged my temples. “What are you doing now?” I asked.
“I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I didn’t ask how long,” I mumbled. Damon entered the bedroom, and my heart did a flip-flop. “I asked,” I said louder, “what are you doing? If you’re searching the place, you need a warrant. If you were any kind of a cop, you’d know that.”
Griffin sat beside me. “Just
give him his few minutes, and then he’ll be gone.”
“How is this okay?” I felt dizzy just thinking about him in there.
“What’s in this box?” Damon called out.
“It’s Violet’s, just like everything else in the place.” Minus one coffeemaker and some clothes. “As if you didn’t know,” I snapped. A nervous irritation bubbled in my throat and—wait. If he saw the box but didn’t mention a frog… Where’s Fernando? Did Sage take him back to her place?
“You don’t look so good,” Griffin said.
Yeah, and it wasn’t just skin-deep either. Damon stomped out. No, this was not okay. He couldn’t just do whatever he wanted—what was he even looking for anyway?
He loomed in front of me. “You were gone last night. What’s this about a poisoning?”
“You’re the local law enforcement. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” My head was doing the backstroke. Jonny? Really? But I’d just talked to him.
“You said, ‘Was he poisoned too?’ Explain that.”
“Um, because of Penelope.”
His expression shifted slightly prior to hardening again. “And how do you know that?”
“Tommy Duran told me.” I turned to Griffin. “It was right before you came by. I never got to ask him more about it, for obvious reasons.”
Damon cast a glance between us then charged out, slamming the door behind him. “Why does he keep doing stuff like that?” I whimpered, rubbing my forehead.
“You should probably get some more sleep. It’s a safe bet he’ll be back later.”
“Lucky me. But about Jonny… Wow, hey? I can’t believe it.”
“I know.”
“What do you think happened? First Penelope and then Jonny…”
“I haven’t a clue. Damon suspects an overdose. You really threw him for a loop when you mentioned a poisoning.”
“I was only repeating what I’d heard.” Griffin yawned, finally showing a sign that he wasn’t indestructible. “You must be exhausted. Take your own advice and go get some sleep too.”
“All right. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“That’s crazy. You’re better off lying on a bag of stale sugar cubes. No, go back to your place. I’ll rest much easier knowing you’re comfortable.”
His droopy eyes were winning the fight. “Okay,” he finally relented. “But do not open the door for anyone. Promise me that. I’ll be back later to check how you’re doing.”
“What good will that do if I’m not allowed to let you in?”
“You know what I mean.”
“What about Sage? I can’t open the door for her either?”
“Samm.”
“Okay, okay.” I was too sleepy to be properly pesky anyway. I walked him to the door instead. “Thank you for last night. I knew I gave you a hard time about coming with me, but in the end, I’m really glad you were there.”
There was so much more I wanted to say, but it’d have to wait until my tongue didn’t feel like it had a fur-lined suitcase clamped to it.
“You’re welcome. And thank you too.”
“For what?”
He hugged me. “Just thank you.”
After a quick kiss on the top of my head, he left, leaving me a bit more dazed than a minute earlier. I made sure the door was locked then staggered over to Violet’s phone and rang up Sage. Her voice mail picked up.
“Hey, Sage. It’s me. Is Fernando with you?”
Croak.
I glanced down. “Uh, never mind. Sorry if I woke you. Thanks for frog-sitting and call me later.”
I quickly finished the call then scooped him up. “Where were you?” I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go to sleep.”
I collapsed on top of the bed, and he hopped onto my bloated stomach. I swore it was only the blink of an eye when a big thud bolted me upright.
Huh? 2:00 p.m.? Wow. At least my headache was gone. I took a gander around the room to see if anything had fallen, but nothing appeared out of place. Fernando was snug in the comforter, so he hadn’t changed into a Goliath frog during my nap and tumbled out of bed.
I got up to check out the rest of the shop then went to the door. It hadn’t sounded like a knock, but then I’d been in a deep sleep. It might’ve happened in a dream for all I knew.
I peeked out the window, shielding my eyes from the bright sun. It was like I was in a spotlight. There was no one at the door, at least not anymore. Just a pumpkin. I turned away then swung back.
Pumpkin?
This, I had to see. I opened the door, and sure enough—a rather large, healthy-looking pumpkin—in March?—sat in front of the shop with a piece of paper stuck to its long stem.
I pulled off the note attached by a rubber band: For Sammara. Enjoy my gift to you.
It wasn’t signed. I swiveled my head in both directions down the street—who would’ve left this? And who all referred to me by my full first name, besides my mother when she was upset? Hmm. Well, it was pretty cute. I happened to love pumpkins.
I was halfway to hauling it inside when Sage’s voice shrieked in my ears. “Leaping lilies! What is that?”
“It’s not obvious?” I said, smiling.
She made a face like she’d just sniffed something putrid. “Where’d you get a pumpkin this time of year?”
“No idea. Someone left it for me.”
“And you’re bringing it inside?” She looked horrified.
“Uh, yeah?” I wasn’t dragging in a rotting animal carcass.
“I don’t think so.” She reached down and grabbed it around the stem, hoisting it up.
Splat.
I pinched myself. Nope, not still dreaming. “What the heck, Sage?”
Pumpkin guts were splattered all over the sidewalk, chunks of spongy flesh littered as far as the street. It was a gourd bloodbath.
“I’m not sure who gave you that monstrosity, but trust me, you do not want it anywhere near you.” All I could do was gawk. “Something was not right with it.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. Did you read its thoughts or something—was it planning on smothering me in my sleep? Or maybe it belongs to the Headless Horseman and—”
“Not a joke, Samm.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. Whatever was going on, I had to trust she had a good reason for murdering it. But still… “But we can’t just leave it here! I can’t have a splattered pumpkin all over the place.”
She nodded. “Right. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be back.”
Sage was gone before I could respond, and I was the one left standing there like I was out of my gourd—in more ways than one.
I took another look at the note but nothing stuck out. Well, if the pumpkin was corrupt, I didn’t want to keep anything associated with whoever had corrupted it in my possession. I tossed it in the garbage can a couple of buildings over, and that was when I noticed two people down the street huddled in conversation.
Was that…? No. Wait… really? I huffed over, feeling just a tad silly in duckie pajamas when it was midafternoon, but I was not letting this opportunity slip away.
Clarisse and Tommy were so into whatever they were discussing, they hadn’t even noticed me until I was practically on top of them.
“Well, well, well. I had no idea the two of you were so chummy.”
Their eyes widened upon seeing me for a split second, then Tommy broke out into his customary, cloying grin and Clarisse just looked at me with disapproval.
“Eve, darling. I do hope you’re planning on dressing a little less informally for my upcoming soiree.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not going to your stupid party. What is wrong with you?”
“Oh dear. That could be a problem.”
“And why would you ever tell Officer Damon that you never told me Penelope’s dead? What kind of sick game are you playing here?”
Tommy eyed us with curiosity. I eyed him back with annoyance. “How is this any of your business?” I snapped.
He lau
ghed. “You’re the one talking in front of me.”
Clarisse placed a hand on her chest. “You must’ve misunderstood me. I said I hope she’s not dead. Of course, if I would’ve known then what I know now—”
“Stop,” I said. “Stop lying. I know very well what you said.”
“Lying? Whatever do—”
“Shut it.”
This woman made me wish I still had an intact pumpkin just so Sage could smash it again—all over her slimy rat face.
“Did you leave a pumpkin at my door?” I asked Tommy.
“Pumpkin?” His brows knitted. “If I was going to leave you a present, it wouldn’t be a vegetable.”
“Fruit,” Clarisse said.
“What?” We both glared at her.
“A pumpkin is a fruit. It’s a common misconception, really.”
I raised my hand in front of her hoity-toity mouth. This whole exchange was becoming as pointless as a bowling ball. I noticed Sage coming in the other direction, holding a large bag, and I took that as my cue to leave.
But just before I did, the spark fizzled out in me, and I turned to Tommy and said, “I’m sorry about Jonny.”
“Thank you. It was a shocker.”
I nodded, walking away toward Sage. When I arrived at the shop, she’d already shoveled most of the remains into the garbage bag. I glanced back to see that Clarisse and Tommy had made themselves scarce.
“What’s this?” I asked, holding up a bundle of sticks.
“Rowan branches. They’ve agreed to sacrifice themselves in order to watch over this thing and keep it contained forevermore.”
“Um… that was nice of them.”
She tossed the bundle into the bag after all the pumpkin pieces were inside then tied the whole thing up with twine.
“Back in a jiffy.” She hauled it over to the dumpster then returned with a smile, slapping her hands together. “Mission accomplished.” She patted me on the shoulder. “You can thank me later.”
“Sure?”
She entered the shop, and I followed. “So, about my night…” I said.
“Yes?” A corner of her mouth ticked up.
“Actually, about the entire day leading up to it. There’s a lot I’d like to go over with you, but I’m trying to figure out where to start.”