Once again, the vendor had only a passing knowledge of Michael from the cheese convention and had no useful information about him. But they were able to share some knowledge about his wife. She was from Estonia and had refused to move to America with him when he got the job, instead insisting on staying overseas and making him split his time between the two countries. That had severely limited his opportunity to be available to anyone outside of his home turf of Northern California and the state next door, Nevada, which he seemed very fond of.
We passed out the last of the pretzel samples and directed a few people toward Granner’s booth before finding the section of the convention devoted to vendors that also sold wine. Many were from the Napa Valley in Northern California, where Michael had lived. While we were tasting a five-hundred-dollar wine guaranteed to pair perfectly with any cheese, the owner chatted with us about Michael.
His answers were polite but distant until Vanessa started pulling together an order of light white wines and deep burgundy reds. By that time, he was willing to share some of the more juicy details.
“Michael sure liked to throw his weight around. It didn’t get him too far in the Valley, since no supernatural guidelines could compete with the stringent California laws. But over the past year, he seemed to spend every spare minute here in Rambler. He said he was attending to the growing cheese industry, but I wondered.”
I tried to control my voice. “What do you think he was up to?”
“I figured he was having an affair, but then… I don’t know. Just rumors, I suppose.”
I lightly tapped Vanessa with my foot and nodded toward him as he packed up one box of wine. She nodded back. “I really want more wine, but I’m not sure.”
“We have some lovely wines from Europe. You should get some.”
I followed up. “What were the rumors you heard?”
He looked between us then sighed. Pulling out the wines and handing them to Vanessa, he answered me. “Nothing concrete, but I have family out here. Beth works in this casino—she’s like a seventh or eighth cousin—and she said to stay away from him. He had some scam going on. I was going to ask her about it more when the family got together this summer, but then Michael quit as president of the cheese board, and I forgot.”
That was all he knew. With our sample trays empty and each of us lugging a huge box of wine costing more than my car, we waddled back to Granner’s booth.
“I can’t believe he even knows his eighth cousin. You weren’t kidding about families being close, were you?” I walked slowly, afraid to trip over Patagonia and drop the precious cargo. “It must be cool to have such tightknit, loving families.”
Vanessa made an odd noise next to me as though she had bitten into a bad peach.
“What was that supposed to mean?” I grunted and adjusted the box in my arms.
“I need to rest for a second.” She tottered over to an empty table that had been left behind when the vendor had packed up their wares and left the booth otherwise empty. “You know that staying close to your family isn’t all kisses and hugs and stuff. Right?”
I rolled my shoulders, working the kinks out of them. “Of course. I mean, all families fight and bicker.”
Vanessa blew out a sigh while working her jaw back and forth. “It’s… more than that. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, because my family is really happy. Mom, Vin, and I are super close with Olivia and Granner, but not every family is like that. There’s jealousy and rivalry and… other stuff.”
“But everyone has magic, so you can have whatever you want.”
“That’s exactly it. The magic. Remember when your dad died? You inherited his magic.”
I nodded grimly. I hadn’t known I was a mage, and the loss of my father along with my untrained magic had caused havoc in my life and eventually led to five years of isolation as I tried to deal with a situation I couldn’t possibly understand. “Right. It’s like money—when they pass on, it goes to the kids. Same way that I got all his savings.” We actually hadn’t talked about it too much beyond how it had affected me. As an only child, I had inherited everything.
“Yes, money is a great analogy. So just like money, some of it gets eaten up at the moment of death, but the rest goes on to the family. Thousands of years ago, people believed that it always went to the eldest son. The wife and daughters were just out of luck. Or so they thought.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting.”
“Totally. So there is no way to really test how much magic someone has, which was useful for females in a time when they were treated like chattel. Then there was a famous mage, Richard Banini. He was a king, and even though he had a son, he doted on his daughter, Gabriella. She was young and beautiful, and he gave her the best education, which was unusual for the time. He died suddenly, with many believing that his son, Mathew, murdered him for his crown, title, and magic.”
“How terrible.”
“Totally. At the funeral, Mathew told Gabriella that she was to marry a man to whom Mathew owed money. The man was cruel and ugly. Gabriella refused, saying that she intended instead to continue to train in magic. Things escalated until Mathew flew into a rage and tried to kill her. He cast a power spell at her to silence her, but she easily knocked it aside. Over and over again, he threw magic at her, and she easily bested him and begged him to stop. By that time, all of the people from the funeral, thousands, were watching as they fought. He was supposed to be the most powerful man in the land, and yet she was standing up to him.”
Patagonia crawled into my lap. I scratched behind her ears, hanging on Vanessa’s every word.
“Finally he cast some dark, terrible spell. She tried to bat it aside, but it turned back on him, crushing his throat along with every bone in his body. I could go into more detail, but—” She shuddered. “Anyway, no one dared to go against her, and they named her king. It got people to questioning the whole belief of how magic was passed down. People still fought it for years, but within a few generations, things started to change.”
“So how does it get passed down?”
“Definitely through family lines, but that is where the bonds between people come into account. The stronger the bond, the more they get. There is something, too, about how close a blood relation you are.”
I thought of my father and me. He had always said it was only the two of us left. “What if there are no tight bonds with blood relations?”
“It would go back up the family line to whatever family members are closest. It’s a bit fuzzy, and we could ask Mom, but be prepared for a long lecture about the philosophy of magical heritance.”
I chewed on a fingernail. I had no living family as far as I knew, but somewhere there had to be someone. If something happened to me, where would my magic go? I shivered at the thought.
Perhaps sensing my train of thought, Vanessa stood up and hefted the box of wine into her arms. “Come on. We should get back to the booth. Unless you’re done investigating?”
I leaped to my feet. “I forgot. Come on. We have a murderer to find.”
CHAPTER SIX
We eased down the aisle heading to the local vendors’ area where Granner’s booth was. When we passed a novelty cheese booth, I slowed down to gawk at some of the most disgusting merchandise I had ever seen. Cheese had been incorporated into things that should never mix with dairy. Rolls of cheese-scented wallpaper stood at attention. A line of feminine-hygiene products available in either feta or cheddar scent had me holding a hand to my mouth in shock. The stack of yellow brie bubble gum was laid out next to parmesan toothpaste.
I paraphrased a line from a dinosaur disaster movie. “Just because you can make something with magic doesn’t mean you should.”
Vanessa laughed. “Oh, they’re fun, the kind of things you get in your Christmas stocking or your Easter basket. I have the toothpaste in my purse.”
“You brush your teeth with that?” My stomach rolled at the thought.
“No, it’s a powder,
and you sprinkle it on your food. It tastes just like parmesan, but at the end of the meal, your breath is minty fresh. I can grab some—perfect for dates.”
I shook my head and continued down the aisle. “No, thank you. Come on, Patagonia.” My black cat sniffed intently at the wallpaper behind us.
There were more empty booths or soon-to-be-empty booths than when we had been here last. Recognizing Beth as she packed up her display of cheesecakes and cheese pastries, I called out, “You calling it a day, Beth?”
She bolted upright, startled, but relaxed a little when she saw it was us. Deep furrows in her brow made her look angry, but waves of exhaustion rolled off her. They matched up with the purple smudges under her eyes. A small spike of fear rose and faded. She had been the pastry chef at a popular Italian restaurant in the casino, and her specialty was cakes that could produce emotions in a person. But after a series of murders that included her ex-boyfriend, her then-boyfriend, and nearly herself, it had been closed, and Beth had been moved to the upscale buffet. I had run into her a half dozen times, and each time, she had reacted with fear when the sight of me reminded her of the incident.
I softened my voice. “How are you doing?”
Vanessa didn’t pick up on this. “Hey, Beth, any near-death experiences recently?”
Beth winced but gave a good attempt at a fake laugh before turning around to slide a cooler onto a dolly.
I kicked Vanessa, who mouthed, “What?”
Rolling my eyes, I addressed Beth. “Are you packing up early? Can we help?”
“No, I’m good.” She kept her back to us as she loaded more boxes.
I put the box of wine down and grabbed one of her boxes. I lowered my voice. “You doing okay?”
She pursed her lips and nodded, a tear threatening to spill down her face. Sorrow, exhaustion, and a deep need for something built in her.
I wasn’t an effusive person and had never been one to push myself on others, but I took a chance and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened briefly before sagging into my arms and returning the hug.
She sniffed and sobbed for a few seconds before pulling back and wiping her eyes with the cuff of her long sleeve. “I’m so embarrassed. I just haven’t been sleeping well since… You know. I think I’m going to take a sabbatical from work. Get my head on straight. Maybe get some help.”
We nodded. Beth had been the target of a murderer, and it was only through last-second action from Vin, Vanessa, and me that she had been saved.
I should have checked up on her. I had assumed that since I had survived and handled it, everyone else had as well. Obviously Beth hadn’t. “Is there anything we can do?”
She brightened. “Yes. Can you convince Olivia not to fire me but to let me go on sabbatical?”
I turned to Vanessa. While Olivia was technically one of my mentors, since she had been present for my bonding with Patagonia, I only saw her every few weeks. She was busy running the casino. But Vanessa was her cousin and in a better position to ask for favors.
“Totally, Beth. I’ll tell Olivia to cut you a break. Is that why you’re leaving today?” said Vanessa.
“Michael’s murder, the marshal hanging around, creepy Peter. It’s all too much. I need to get out of here.” She looked around and gestured. “I’m not the only one. Everyone’s creeped out, both the sellers and the buyers.”
The murderer could have already packed up and left. Our investigation might be a waste of time, but some thought tickled the back of my brain that the killer was still around. Why I felt this, I didn’t know. Maybe I was just hoping, or maybe my brain or magic knew something the rest of me didn’t.
Thinking of her cousin’s statement, I tried to formulate a plan to ask her something else, but her delicate disposition made me want to keep it light. “Do you know why someone would want Michael gone?”
Beth put a last box on the dolly and, using her foot as leverage, tipped it back and rolled it out of the booth. As she passed me, she paused and lowered her voice. “Are you guys looking into this? You know, like last time?”
“We’ll keep everything very quiet.” I focused on radiating a calm, safe energy.
For a few moments, as her fear spiked, I thought she might deny knowing anything, but then the fear was replaced with hope. “It’s all rumors. He never bothered me, maybe because I worked here. I don’t know anything for sure.”
“But you heard things?”
“There are a lot of rules. Sometimes people skirt the rules, and Michael had a way of finding out.”
I nodded, not totally sure what she was referring to. A group of men approached and started grabbing boxes.
As one took the dolly from her and started to leave, she leaned over and whispered, “Talk to Granner about her beer cheese and Michael.”
***
After the group left, Vanessa pounced. “What did she say?”
I grabbed the box of wine and started waddling down the aisle toward Granner, who was trying to talk to her neighbor, but Martha appeared to be waving her off. “We need to talk to Granner.”
Vanessa grabbed her box of wine and caught up just as I slid the box onto the floor in Granner’s booth. “Can we talk to you in private?”
Granner looked me up and down. “Do I have a booger hanging out?”
“No, let’s just go over here.” When she didn’t move, I tried another tack. “We need help.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so? Kids these days, can’t just ask for a little help.”
I walked next to her as she and her ancient cat tottered over to a table near the wall. A couple of convention-goers were resting their feet, but when they caught sight of her scowl, they offered her the table and practically ran off.
Once we were arranged at the table with Patagonia at my feet, playfully batting at Granner’s cat’s tail, I started in. “Do you know something about Michael?”
“Who?” She widened her watery eyes.
“Michael? That man who was murdered?” When she didn’t register any recognition, I sighed. “The man under your wedge of cheese.”
“Oh, him!”
“Yes, him. Do you know something about him?”
She cocked her head to the side like a curious dog. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I blew out a breath in frustration. “Something that he found out about your beer cheese.” I picked up the empty platter from the top of the box of wine and gestured with it.
“Oh! You mean the blackmail?” She reached down and scooped up her familiar into her lap to pet.
Vanessa’s eyes bugged out. “He was blackmailing you? About what? Granner, why didn’t you tell us?”
Granner waved a hand, dismissing Vanessa’s concern. “Your mother would have overreacted. I had it under control.”
Vanessa sputtered in shock but pressed her lips together when I shot a look at her.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” I asked.
“It was no big deal, though he was a shady little weasel. I’m sure you know that I use dragon spit in my recipe to keep the beer cheese at the perfect temperature for dipping. Well, you aren’t—”
“Did you say dragon spit? Please tell me that is just a cutesy name for some flower.”
“No, of course not. It’s dragon spit.”
“But you don’t mean a dragon like a fire-breathing monster?”
Granner turned to Vanessa. “What is wrong with her?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “She’s had an unusual upbringing and is a bit behind in her education.” She turned to me. “Yes, dragon spit from a dragon. Now can you let Granner finish her story?”
I was torn between wanting to learn more about dragons and not outing my lack of education any more. I bit my tongue and nodded.
Granner gave me a firm look up and down. “I’ll talk to Annie about what she is teaching you. If you are going to train under my family, you can’t be embarrassing people with your simple ways. Back to the dragon. You obviously don’
t know this, but in the 1800s, they hunted them to near extinction worldwide. Estonia was the only place that protected them. Once the mage community came together to protect them, you could only get dragon spit from Estonia, in person, through a regulated system.”
“How do they get the spit?” I was scared to hear the answer, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“They put out big salt licks with a bowl underneath. It’s very humane.” She reached over and patted my arm.
I was glad that no dragons were hurt in the procurement of spit, but the idea of a large bowl of dragon spit still turned my stomach. It was a good thing I was already seated so my legs couldn’t go out from underneath me.
“I don’t know how he found out. Maybe because his wife’s family is in Estonia. I’ve been using dragon spit from Wyoming, here in the States. They have plenty of dragons here. Why should I pay all that extra money just because the regulations are years out of date?”
I bit my tongue. I wanted to ask if we could go see the dragons right now, but I pushed that aside to focus on the revelation Granner was sharing.
“He comes to me, just as sweet as sugar. Says he understands how difficult and expensive it is to get dragon spit, but he really should enforce the rules. Then he starts commenting on how he loves the beer cheese and he would hate for it to go away.”
Vanessa nodding in understanding.
“Exactly. I offered him some to take with him, and he said that he could overlook such a small infraction. But then a few months later, he called to ask about a couple of other products. Next thing I know, I’m sending him a box of cheese every few months.” She sat back with a smirk. “But I got even.”
“How?” Based on her wicked smile, I was a bit scared to find out.
“Once I realized this was not a one-time thing, I started adding a little something extra to his cheese. Nothing dangerous or illegal. Like maybe a spell so the seam on his sock would rub on his little toe or his fitted sheet would come off the mattress at night or he would get those little hangnails on the corners of his fingers or toes that stick up and catch on everything, but if you pull them, they bleed and sting something fierce. Just little stuff.”
Which Mage Moved the Cheese? Page 6