“All right. See you then.”
“Try to get some more sleep,” I urged, but he had already hung up.
Shit.
I managed to force down half the burger before giving up, and the soothing blues music softened the cold stone that seemed lodged in the pit of my stomach. I felt marginally better by the time I left Eddy with a promise to return the next day and finish up.
By the time I got to Up & Coming at one-thirty I had recovered enough to hide my worry from Lola, but I stayed focused on their bookkeeping program and hurried away as soon as my time was up.
Back at Sirius Dynamics, I spent a miserable couple of hours trying and failing to concentrate on Labelle. My dread of Stemp’s dinner party mingled with sick fear for Daniel, knotting my stomach and tightening an aching band around my head.
When the clock’s hands finally dragged themselves around to five o’clock I stumbled out of my office and hid in the ladies’ room, where I gulped a painkiller and an anti-nausea pill in the hope that the combination would see me through Stemp’s upcoming social disaster.
Chapter 19
At five-forty-five I pulled up in front of Up & Coming again. Before I could get out of my car, a tiny old lady hurried out and slid into my passenger seat. Gaping, I took in her poodle-curled white hair, demurely ruffled pale pink blouse gathered to a cameo pin at the throat, white below-the-knee skirt, and low-heeled white pumps. She even had matching cameo earrings, white gloves, and a conservative clutch purse.
“Who the hell are you, and what did you do with Lola?” I demanded.
Lola grinned. “This is how I looked when you first met me, remember?” Her throaty bigger-than-life voice was even more incongruous coming from the modest church-lady façade.
“Yeah, but…” I swallowed. “But… please tell me you didn’t bleach your fabulous pink hair… and… and…” Words failed me for a moment before I managed to sputter, “Cameos and white gloves and kitten heels? Really?”
Lola laughed. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m wearing a wig. It’s been too long since I did the cute-little-old-lady schtick. Everybody else knows me too well to believe it, but I’ll have a fresh audience tonight. This is going to be so much fun!”
Shaking my head, I put the car into gear without further comment. Lola didn’t know that Stemp had seen her purple-haired geriatric-pixie-dominatrix persona, and I couldn’t tell her without revealing dangerous truths.
Well, whatever. ‘Fun’ wasn’t what I was expecting this evening, but it’d sure as hell be interesting.
It was only a short drive to Stemp’s house, but Lola was unnaturally quiet.
I glanced over at her troubled profile. “Lola, what’s wrong? If you don’t feel like coming tonight, I can take you home and tell them you got sick.”
“Huh?” She shook herself. “Oh. No, I’m looking forward to this! I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to bring it up before dinner, but… Linda had some bad news today, and I’m upset for her.”
A cold hand squeezed my heart. “Oh, no! What’s wrong?”
Lola grimaced. “She went for the final fitting for her wedding dress today.”
“What’s wrong?” I repeated. “Didn’t it fit?”
“No, it fit fine.” Anger crimped the corners of her mouth. “But somebody had broken into the dressmaker’s house and thrown red dye on it.”
“What?” Slamming on the brakes, I jerked my car over to the curb so I could stare at her. “How could that happen? Who would…?”
“We don’t know. The dressmaker works out of her home, and she didn’t even realize anyone had been in her house until she went to get Linda’s dress out of the closet today and found it was wrecked.” Lola blew out a sad breath. “It was so beautiful! Simple lines in a gorgeous white silk, with lace imported from France. And now it’s only good for the garbage bin.”
“That’s… that’s just awful. Poor Linda. What is she going to do?”
“Well, she’s putting on a brave face for Spider. They’ll drive down to Calgary tomorrow and buy something off the rack.”
“But she’s so tiny, she’ll never find anything that fits.”
“I know.” Lola shrugged, but her shoulders were tight. “The dressmaker was in tears over it, and she promised to alter anything Linda bought in time for the wedding, but…” Her small fists clenched. “Who’d want to hurt Linda? She’s an angel!”
“Maybe it wasn’t about Linda at all. Maybe somebody was upset with the dressmaker…?” I suggested.
“I doubt it. She grew up here; she’s been the only dressmaker in town for nearly forty years; and everybody loves her and her work. And she had several other dresses in the same closet that weren’t harmed.”
“Has Linda had a problem with anybody lately? Any disgruntled customers at the store, or any personality clashes at the hospital?”
“No.” Lola reached over to pat my hand. “Let it go. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Let’s just try to put it out of our minds and enjoy your dinner party.”
“But the dressmaker called the police, right?” I persisted. “That’s breaking and entering, and vandalism.”
“Yes, but they’ll never be able to figure out who it was. She has people coming and going from her house all the time, so none of the neighbours noticed anything unusual and there are fingerprints from so many people in her house…” Lola trailed off. “Never mind, Aydan. As heartbreaking as it is, when all’s said and done it’s the marriage that matters, not the dress. We’d better get going or we’ll be late.”
I sighed and put the car back into gear. First Spider’s spiked drink, and now Linda’s dress.
A sudden thought froze me. Spider’s friend Tim had accused Brock of spiking Spider’s drink. Surely Brock wouldn’t stoop low enough to wreck Linda’s dress, too.
No. It just wasn’t a ‘guy’ thing. And it would be far too much trouble for him to make the two-hour trip from Calgary to break into someone’s home, wreck a dress, and then drive another two hours back. He was an annoying little shit, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t psychotic enough to go to that amount of effort just to spite Spider and Linda…
“Aydan.” Lola’s anxious voice interrupted my thoughts. “If that steering wheel was somebody’s neck, they’d be dead by now. And we’re not going to get anywhere unless you take your foot off the brake.”
I shook myself and eased my grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I just don’t like this. I hope nothing else happens.”
“Me, too,” Lola agreed as I pulled onto the street.
A few minutes later we pulled up in front of Stemp’s house, and I smiled at the sight of the sleek rental car bearing BC plates. Moonbeam and Karma had left the ancient smoke-belching station wagon back at the commune and gone for some modern air-conditioned transportation.
A good choice. I got out of my car and peeled the sweaty T-shirt away from my back.
Over the hood of my car, Lola eyed me with an indulgent smile. “Do you ever dress up?”
Suddenly self-conscious, I glanced down at my clean but faded jeans, snug crew-necked T-shirt, running shoes, and waist pouch. “I never even thought of it. This is what I wear to work…”
I trailed off, connecting the dots. Stemp always wore suits to work. Oh God, maybe I should have asked if this was a formal dinner. What if he’d gone black-tie?
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Lola encouraged, and I realized I had groaned aloud.
A rapid survey of the yard showed no place to hide except under my car, and I couldn’t fit under there without jack stands.
I squared my shoulders and faced my fate.
A moment after I rang the doorbell, the door opened and Moonbeam’s luminous smile warmed me from head to toe. “Storm Cloud Dancer, how wonderful to see you again!” she cried, and drew me into a hug.
“It’s great to see you, too!” I said, and returned her hug with affection.
“Storm,” Karma rumbled behind her, and I had barely left Moonbeam’s embra
ce before he engulfed me in a bear hug.
I hugged him tightly. “So good to see you, too!” I pulled away to introduce Lola. “And this is my good friend and client, Lola Ives. Lola, Moonbeam Meadow Sky and Karma Wolf Song.”
“How nice to meet you…” Moonbeam said, trailing off with the slightly unfocused scrutiny I knew so well. Then she bestowed a brilliant smile on Lola. “You have such a lovely aura! Beautiful oranges and pinks! But… if you’ll forgive me…” She eyed Lola’s outfit. “Is this your usual appearance?”
Lola’s mouth dropped open.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Moonbeam began hurriedly, but Lola’s big-hearted laugh boomed out before she could finish.
“Well, doggone it!” Lola exclaimed. “I haven’t even been here ten seconds and already I’m busted!” She whisked her wig off and raked her fingers through her hot-pink hair, standing it up into its usual spikes. Then she unfastened the cameo pin and began to unbutton her blouse.
“Um, Lola…” I began, but she silenced me with an insouciant wave.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ve got a tank top underneath.” She peeled off the ruffled blouse and dropped it and the wig unceremoniously in the corner along with her clutch purse and gloves, facing Moonbeam’s dancing eyes in a hot pink scoop-necked tank top that matched her hair and revealed abundant wrinkled cleavage.
Moonbeam and Karma’s combined laughter pealed out like jubilant bells. “Oh, I like you already!” Moonbeam cried. “And I’m so glad you’re not offended. It’s just that with an aura like yours, that outfit was just so… not you.”
Stemp rounded the corner at that moment, and it was all I could do not to gape open-mouthed.
He was wearing shorts.
Stemp.
Shorts.
No. I must be hallucinating. My mind steadfastly refused to accept the evidence presented by my eyes.
He wore neatly-pressed khakis that grazed his kneecaps, and his legs were actually quite acceptable; moderately haired with muscular calves. Paired with an immaculate collared T-shirt that revealed unexpectedly rippling forearms and smoothly-defined biceps, it was a perfectly appropriate outfit for a casual dinner on a hot summer day.
But…
Shorts…?
As I stood paralyzed, Moonbeam turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her son. She linked her arms around him, love and pride glowing in her smile. As if the gesture was unfamiliar to him, Stemp’s arm moved tentatively to embrace her in return. His expression never changed, but I thought I detected a softening in his eyes and a slight lean in her direction. My heart warmed. Maybe their long years of estrangement were finally over.
I realized Stemp was eyeing me expectantly, and I gathered my scattered wits and introduced Lola. Or at least I think I did. My lips moved and words came out and they shook hands, so I probably hadn’t blurted out anything inappropriate.
“Your dress is beautiful,” Lola said, and for a mind-reeling moment I thought she was speaking to Stemp.
My beleaguered brain caught up when Moonbeam responded with a gracious “Thank you.”
“It’s hand-painted, isn’t it?” Lola asked, examining the delicate oriental-style flowers on Moonbeam’s filmy caftan.
“Yes, it’s one of the crafts I enjoy,” Moonbeam replied. “I love playing with colours and textiles, and while I usually wear more practical tie-dyed garments day-to-day, I love to wear my special things when I get the chance. I did the batik for Karma Wolf Song’s shirt and sarong, too.” She indicated the richly coloured and patterned fabric by running an appreciative hand across one of his broad shoulders and down his barrel chest.
He gently captured her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles and they smiled at each other, momentarily transported to a private world of their own.
Stemp cleared his throat. “Drinks are served on the patio…” he began, only to be interrupted by the doorbell. “…Ah. That will be Bud.” He crossed to open the door.
His elderly neighbour stood on the doorstep, smiling. “Hiya, Charlie,” he said warmly. “Thanks for inviting me to your shindig…”
He trailed off, his gaze travelling over Moonbeam’s sweet wrinkled face, long silver braid, and filmy caftan to hesitate at Karma’s bare feet, sarong, and neatly bound iron-gray ponytail. He stalled briefly on Lola’s cleavage and bright pink hair, but his smile never faltered and he managed to wrench his gaze away from the motley assembly to land on me.
“Miss Kelly.” His smile widened. “It’s nice to see you again. How have you been keeping?”
“I’m fine, Bud, and remember, it’s just Aydan.” I went over to shake his hand. “It’s great to see you again…” I hesitated, eyeing his emaciated frame. The hands that had been steady on his shotgun eight months ago showed a slight tremor now, and his chest rose and fell with too-rapid wheezy breaths. “How are you?” I finished, hoping he hadn’t noticed my pause.
“Ah, well, you know how it goes with the emphysema.” He shrugged and grinned, the twinkle undimmed in his eyes. “So far so good, as the optimist said when he fell past the second floor. I’m still buying green bananas, anyway.”
“Good to hear.” I gave him a smile and moved back so Stemp could perform the introductions.
Apparently Bud had never met Moonbeam and Karma, because Stemp introduced them, too, finishing with, “…and Bud is my neighbour from across the street. He looks after my plants when I’m away, and beats me at cribbage once a week.”
Bud pshawed and shuffled his feet modestly, and the conversation stayed general while Stemp ushered us out to his shaded back deck and settled us in comfortable chairs. Moonbeam had given Bud her usual once-over, but refrained from commenting on his aura. It didn’t take a seer to read the shadow of serious illness on him.
“I have non-alcoholic margaritas,” Stemp offered, indicating a green-tinted pitcher and glasses on the patio table. “Aydan, I know you don’t usually drink if you’re driving, but if you’d like a beer…”
“No, thanks,” I said hurriedly. “The margaritas sound great.”
Karma and Moonbeam had already appropriated glasses, and Moonbeam poured an additional one for me and handed it over as Stemp turned to Lola.
“Would you like something alcoholic, Lola?”
She gave him her impish smile. “Not unless you’ve got Wild Turkey.”
Stemp’s expression remained grave, but his eyes twinkled. “By an amazing coincidence, I do happen to have a bottle of Wild Turkey.”
“No kidding!” Lola sat up, her eyes widening. “I thought I was the only person north of the border who likes Wild Turkey! Thanks, I’d love some!”
As he turned away to pour from a tiny bottle, I caught the satisfaction in his expression. Three steps ahead of everybody, as usual. I knew he didn’t keep liquor in his house, so he must have researched Lola using who-knew-what secret methods. And I’d be willing to bet he didn’t have any beer at all, even though he’d offered it to me. He’d known damn well I wouldn’t drink if I was driving.
He offered a tumbler to Lola, and she beamed up at him as she accepted it, rattling the two ice cubes gently in the small amount of liquor. “Just the way I like it! Thanks!”
Without questioning Bud about his preferences, Stemp placed a small teapot and cup at his elbow, and the old man nodded his approval.
“Thanks, Charlie.” He transferred his smile to us. “I sure do like a hot cup of tea, even when it’s warm outside. The heat feels good on these old bones.”
Moonbeam smiled and raised her glass. “To comfort and good company.”
We raised our glasses and murmured agreement. Stemp busied himself at the barbeque and Moonbeam turned her smile on me. “And how are Blessed Soul Dream and Sunstar Desert Hawk?”
“Um… they’re okay…”
I hesitated, my stomach knotting at the thought of facing Kane later, and worry clouded Moonbeam’s face.
“Oh, dear. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked. “I knew it;
I could see the disturbance in your aura.”
“No, they’re both fine,” I hastened to reassure her. “It’s just that John’s going through a hard time right now, and Arnie and I are both worried about him.” I explained the events to date, omitting the fact that her beloved Arnie was only a few blocks away at Kane’s place. Stemp would probably throttle me if I let that slip.
Moonbeam sat slowly back in her chair, her expression grave. “What a difficult situation,” she murmured. “I will consult the Earth Spirit-”
“Mother!” Stemp interrupted loudly. We all turned to him in surprise, and he added, “Would you like some mango chipotle barbeque sauce on your veggie patty?”
Chapter 20
It was a smooth segue and Stemp’s expression was as pleasant as it had been when he welcomed us into his home, but his fist clenched around the spatula. As if realizing I’d noticed, he relaxed his grip and the returning circulation eased the whiteness out of his knuckles.
Moonbeam looked startled, but her expression smoothed almost instantly to the same polite mask as Stemp’s own. “Yes, dear, mango sauce would be lovely,” she said warmly. “Thank you.”
He smiled and questioned us each about our burger preferences before returning his attention to the grill, but an awkward silence lingered around the table.
Lola leaned forward. “So, Moonbeam, you called Aydan ‘Storm Cloud Dancer’ earlier; and you have special names for the menfolk, too? What’s the story there?”
“Please call me Moonbeam Meadow Sky,” Moonbeam corrected gently. “A person’s full name is very important from a numerological standpoint. The numeric vibrations contained in a name influence both personality and destiny.”
I hid a wince, expecting another outburst from Stemp, but he said nothing and his posture was relaxed while he applied barbeque sauce to the burgers.
“Oh, that’s fascinating!” Lola exclaimed. “How does numerology work?”
Thank God for Lola.
Moonbeam provided a short explanation while Lola encouraged her with avid questions.
The Spies That Bind Page 16