The Emerald Key

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The Emerald Key Page 6

by Vicky Burkholder


  “What about disgruntled employees?” Nic asked.

  “There’s only Aunt Minerva and me.”

  “Mostly Cass,” Greg said. “Minerva’s been out of town a lot lately, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes. I take care of running the store while she takes care of other business.”

  “What other business?”

  Cass shrugged. “You’d have to ask her. She tells me when she’s leaving and when she’ll be back. I have her cell phone if I ever need to contact her. Other than that, I don’t know anything.”

  “Can you give us some sort of estimate of the damage?” Greg asked.

  Cass looked around the store and shook her head. “I’ll try to have something for you by the end of the day. What will you do? Do you have to take fingerprints or anything like that?”

  Greg shook his head. “This is a store. There’d be too many for us to do anything with and we don’t have the manpower to spend weeks looking into that. I’m sorry, Cass.”

  “Yeah, well thanks. I guess I’d better call Aaron.” Her insurance rates would skyrocket after this. She just knew it.

  “I already called him. He’ll be here shortly. I’ll stop by Sam’s to get him to fix your door and let Dori know. Do you need anything else?”

  “No. Thanks, Greg.”

  Cass watched him leave with a sense of foreboding. Nic had kept a semblance of civility with Greg there, but she could almost see the waves of anger rolling off him. She steeled herself to ward off his rage.

  “You want to tell me why you didn’t wait for me?”

  His calm tone didn’t fool her. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “That’s one of the most asinine answers I’ve ever heard. What if your stalker had still been here?”

  “I had Aunt Minerva here.”

  “And that makes it right? How am I supposed to protect you if you won’t play by the rules?”

  “I never asked for your protection! I can take care of myself!” She jumped when a wood shelf wobbled and fell to the floor.

  “Yeah, I can see that. If you don’t care about yourself, you should at least care about your aunt.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Minerva strode into the office. “Of course, the way you two are yelling, half the town heard my name. Cassandra, Aaron is here about the insurance. We need to talk to him together. Now.”

  “I’m coming.” Cass had the strangest urge to stick her tongue out at Nic. The man made her run hot and cold—mostly hot. Why? What made him so special? Steve had never made her feel that way. Guilt pulled at her, but she shrugged it off. She’d deal with that later. Right now, the store had priority.

  An hour later, the insurance man had come and gone. Minerva had left for the local hardware store to get supplies, and Nic worked at rewiring her security alarms. She surveyed her shop and sighed. Time to get to work. But first, different clothes.

  After a quick trip upstairs, she returned and started at the front door. A book by her foot hadn’t been damaged so she set it on a shelf. As soon as she did, the shelf fell. Cass swore, then went to the back to get a large empty box and place it near the front door. Then she sat on the floor and started going through her wares.

  Fixable damage went to her left. No damage went to her right. Those items beyond repair went into the box. She had barely made a dent when she heard a noise. She looked up to see Minerva and several men and women from nearby shops, all toting cleaning or other supplies.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They’re here to help,” Minerva said.

  “But their stores…”

  “Business is slow today,” one man said and shrugged. She recognized him from a small music store down the street.

  Cass blinked back tears. These people were their friends and neighbors. And a few people who’d be happier to see her sort of store gone. But they’d come. They’d either closed shop or left an employee in charge to come help her and Minerva on the busiest day of the week.

  In a short time, they had broken into teams, some to sort inventory, others to restore shelves. The owner of a deli down the street kept them supplied with drinks and snacks. Several customers stopped by to express shock at the destruction. Some even stayed to help, including her customer from the previous day. A chill went through Cass as he entered, though nobody else seemed to be affected by him—nobody but Minerva. As Cass watched, Minerva strode over to the jewelry counter where the man had gone. The man glared at Minerva and Cass, then left as quickly as he’d entered. Cass put it in the back of her mind to mention the incident to Greg later.

  At one point, the local news reporter showed up with his camera and interviewed her and Minerva. He snapped pictures of the damage and the people helping with the cleanup, then rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a broom.

  Late in the morning, while Cass worked in the office, Minerva stepped in and sat a heavy mug of mulled cider on the desk in front of Cass. “Please try to leave this one in one piece. I lost enough inventory this morning.”

  Cass took a sip of the warm drink. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not an issue. I assume you’re in control?”

  “As much as possible.”

  Minerva perched on the edge of the desk. “I know you didn’t do this, but who could get past my wards?”

  “Aunt Minerva! How can you even think I would do such a thing?”

  “Remember my dining room the first time you threw a magic tantrum?”

  Cass frowned at her. “I was six years old! Yes, I’ve had some minor slips since then, but nothing like this. I didn’t do this.”

  “I know, dear. But we had wards set in addition to the security alarms. I know they cut the wires, but my wards are still intact.”

  “At first, I thought maybe my customer from yesterday had done this. Something about him gave me the chills and when I scryed him, he saw me. But he showed up here with everyone else. If he’d done this, he wouldn’t have shown up again, would he? And what is the design burned in the floor? It looks almost like my pendant.”

  Minerva pursed her lips and stared at Cass. “Are you wearing the pendant—the real one?”

  Cass withdrew her necklace from under her blouse. “Yes. I’ve been wearing it almost constantly for the last week or so.”

  “Good. Tuck it away and keep that safe. The rest we can deal with, but that must never be lost.”

  “Aunt Minerva? Are you ever going to tell me what this pendant is and why, if it’s so important, you don’t put it in a safe or something?”

  Minerva’s sigh sounded full of regret and frustration. “Honey, you know there are some mysteries that cannot be explained until the proper time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Trust me when I say this is one of those times. When needed, you will understand. I know that’s not an explanation, but I’m asking you to trust me on this.”

  “As I do on everything, Aunt Minerva.”

  She finished her cider and rose. “Guess we should get back out there.”

  “I’m going to check up on some things, including your mysterious customer, which means I need to go back to my place. Will you be okay?”

  “I’m fine. Go. The sooner we figure this out, the better I’ll feel.”

  By late afternoon, the worst of the damage had been cleared away, and the helpers had gone back to their own lives. A new, reinforced glass door replaced the broken one in the front and a freshly painted metal-clad one hung between the store and the office. The cellar door had also been replaced. Unfortunately, most of the stock would have to be discarded or sold as damaged. And they’d have to get a new computer as hers couldn’t be repaired. Until then, they’d have to rely on her aunt’s laptop.

  Throughout the day, Cass kept wondering why someone would do this to her store. Although she and Minerva made enough to keep food in the cupboards and a roof over their heads, nobody could say the store made a lot of money. Besides, the cash register hadn’t been touched, nor had the most expensive jewelry or oth
er costly goods. Why? It didn’t make sense. Neither did straight vandalism. Their small town had its share of problems, but nothing like this had ever happened, especially to Minerva. Nobody would risk making her aunt angry. Too many questions spun round her brain. But no answers came.

  The phone rang as she worked at arranging her charms in the new case.

  “Madam Minerva’s.”

  “Cass? I just heard about the shop. Are you all right?”

  Cass chewed her lip at the sound of Steve’s voice. Funny, but other than when she first found the break-in, she hadn’t thought about him all day. “Steve! Hi. Yes, I’m fine. The store sustained quite a bit of damage, but we’ve gotten most of it cleaned up. Where are you?”

  “Philly. I told you, you should get rid of that place. It attracts the wrong kind of people.”

  “My customers didn’t do this.” A frisson of distrust wove through her, tightening her shoulders. He’d just heard? But she knew Greg had called him earlier and told him. He’d known all day about the store. Before she could ask him anything, he rushed on. In the background, she heard what sounded like a woman’s voice calling him, but the noise and bad connection made it difficult to hear.

  “Well as long as you’re okay. See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. See you.” She frowned at the dead phone. He’d been in a hurry to ring off. Wait. Philly? Tomorrow? That was where he’d gone? And he was supposed to be back tonight. She didn’t understand. Cass hung up the phone and shook her head. She didn’t need any more questions. But they would definitely have a talk when he did finally return. She didn’t know if they could remain friends, but they were definitely no longer a couple. Not even casually. After meeting Nic, she knew Steve would never work for her on any level. Time to make a clean cut.

  By closing time, order had been restored and Cass got to work sorting through the hundreds of different crystals and stones she kept in open bins. The bell at the front door tinkled and she looked up to find Nic standing there, plastic bag in hand. She’d thought him still outside somewhere going over the wiring. He had on well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt that molded to his chest, showing off every muscle and her breath caught in her throat.

  She rose and dusted her hands, trying to find a semblance of sanity. Unfortunately, it didn’t work very well.

  * * * *

  William flung the leaded crystal goblet against the wall. It shattered, dripping wine and shards of glass down the wall onto the plush carpet. Idiots. He was working with idiots. The general Brotherhood had devolved over the years, but this…this went beyond incompetency. They treated the sacred vows and rituals as if they’d joined some sort of social club. He had the captains of industry, lawyers, cops, and politicians in his pockets. All that money and influence and still, they’d failed. They’d made a mess of everything. Not only had they failed to capture the key, but they hadn’t taken out the protector or the guardian.

  He’d gone through every piece of jewelry in the damned store and nothing. He’d taken his rage out on the remains. Besides, his Cassandra didn’t need all that fakery. Once she was his, she’d have anything she wanted. Of course, not for long, but still, all would be hers.

  The time of convergence drew near. He had to have Cassandra and the key by the solstice or the doorway would remain closed to him.

  The three holding the other keys would come to his Cassandra—she had the honor of being the first, the one with the true power—like him. With her blood, he’d be able to open the doorway between this world and the magic realm, fair Lemuria. This would be his last chance. Twice he had tried, and twice he had failed. No more. This time, he would have her completely.

  But he didn’t understand her. Why did she run? He’d shown her how noble her death would be. His e-mails should have enthralled her. She would be honored above all others. The other three would die ignoble deaths, but hers—hers would be glorious. He paced the room, his fingers beating a tattoo against his legs. He needed to take care of everything himself. If his people couldn’t do the job, he’d hire those who could, though it irritated him that he had to stoop so low. Calling on those who lived on the bottom edges of society was beneath him. He glanced at the list of available members once more and stopped on a name. This person. This one person. This man not only knew his fair Cassandra and kept her safe for him, but he would be acquainted with the right people to do the job. Finally, someone who could take care of things. He needed to call him. But first, he needed to rest. He felt so tired. Something—or someone—had to be draining him. Who would dare? And why now?

  Chapter 6

  Nic held the bag out to her. “I thought you could use this.” He’d considered her pretty last night, but now, standing there with strands of hair escaping, old jeans, and an oversize T-shirt covered with dirt, she looked enchanting. After going over her security measures and repairing the damage, he’d spent part of the afternoon looking into Cassandra Richards and her aunt, using some techniques and contacts he hadn’t the previous night—some of which Greg would definitely not want to know about.

  Of the two, Minerva definitely had the more interesting past, but not nearly as intriguing as the wisp of a woman standing in front of him. A spark of electricity jumped when he handed her the bag. He chalked the sensation up to static, but wondered. Every time he came around her, it felt like a charge built between them.

  Cass took the bag, opened it and emptied the contents onto the counter. “Thank you. I think.”

  Nic had stopped by the local hardware store and picked up a dead bolt lock. “It’s for your door upstairs. That flimsy lock wouldn’t keep out a toddler.”

  “My door?” Her face scrunched up in puzzlement, then lightened and she grinned. “You mean the one at the top of the steps in my office?”

  Nic cocked his head at her. “What other one would I mean?”

  Cass chuckled. “Come with me.”

  She attempted to brush the dust off, but ended up making things worse. Finally, she gave up, set the alarms, and led him out the new front door, which she locked securely behind them. She climbed the same steps they’d used the night before. Once inside, Cass led him down a short hall, past the large eat-in kitchen, the bedrooms, and bathroom. At the end of the hall stood a huge dresser that looked like it hadn’t been moved in centuries. Behind the dresser, Nic glimpsed the top of a door.

  The door.

  Cass leaned against the dresser. “Anybody who knows me, knows I’ve never used the inside door. The dresser came with the place and I’ve never been able to move it. The door opens in and the hinges are on this side. Nobody can get enough leverage to get the dresser out. I could have destroyed it, but liked the design, so I kept it.”

  Nic had seen the piece the first time he’d come in, but hadn’t noticed the door behind it and hadn’t thought about it when he checked out the door. Nearly as wide as the hallway, with barely a quarter of an inch clearance on either side, the dresser stood as tall as he did and had a curved front. The bottom dropped close to the floor, giving little chance of getting any sort of grip there. The highly polished wood floor showed no signs anything had been moved. He pulled out one of the drawers—solid. Even using all his strength, he couldn’t budge the piece.

  “I see what you mean,” Nic said. Then he thought about her statement. Anybody who knew her? That meant the break-in had to be someone she knew. Anyone else would have at least tried the door and there’d been no evidence of tampering when he’d examined it.

  “Anyone who knows you? What do you know about who did this?” Nic stared at her, eyes narrowed. Jaw clenched, she stared right back at him.

  “Nothing.”

  “Try again.”

  She raised her chin and looked directly in his eyes. “I do not know who did this.”

  “Maybe not the name, but you know something.”

  “I know whoever he is, he cost Minerva and me a fortune in supplies and inventory.”

  “He? So we’re looking for a man?”

/>   Cass blinked several times, then chuckled. “You’re good.”

  “I get paid to be. Want to give me any details?”

  “I don’t know anything, really. I have my suspicions, but nothing definite. I told you about him earlier, when Greg asked.”

  “Wouldn’t happen to know a name, would you?”

  “Nope.”

  “You said you saw him outside, last night, at Greg and Dori’s.”

  “Maybe. I couldn’t see him very well in the dark. But I know his face.”

  “Come again? If it was too dark, how could you have seen his face?”

  “I saw him this morning.”

  The muscles in Nic’s jaw bulged as he attempted to control his frustration. Over the years, others had tried to evade his questions, but he refused to be deterred. “When?”

  “During the cleanup and again, yesterday, when he came in.”

  “Not exactly proof I can take to a judge, especially since he came back to help with everyone else. Did he do anything suspicious?”

  “You mean besides stomping around and picking up different pieces of jewelry? No. And don’t bother with evidence. This man is never going to appear in front of a judge.”

  “You think we won’t catch him?”

  “Not until he lets us. And then, it won’t be because he’s lost the battle. It will be because he wants me.”

  “Wants you for what?”

  Cass pulled the pendant from under her shirt. “He wants this. And he wants me dead.”

  Nic glanced at the pendant, then stared at it. He knew that piece. It looked like the ones in her shop, but he saw a subtle difference. He detected a faint glow surrounding the piece. “It looks familiar.”

  “I call the design ‘Magic.’ It’s one of my more popular pieces.”

  “You designed this?”

  “No. I received this one as a gift. I simply make copies that I sell.”

 

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