“Stevie! Look out for the edge of the lawn!” I yelled, fearing she’d topple over our small cliff of a yard.
Mayhem Manor, as she so affectionately calls our home (though, after much renovation and hundreds of thousands of dollars, it’s quite beautiful now), is situated higher above the water below us, with at least a fifteen-foot drop to the road below.
“Malutka, you must dig in your heels! Dig, malutka, diiig!” Arkady ordered while my tongue refused to further cooperate.
As instructed, she dug her heels into the lawn, tearing up grass and spitting dirt and pebbles until she stopped within inches from the drop.
Thank heavens for my trusty friend Arkady and his quick thinking. As I spend more time with Stephania, as my affection for her grows, I find it harder and harder to compartmentalize when I see her in danger, and it’s become quite annoying.
“Ugh!” she howled, flopping to her back, her chest heaving, her breathing ragged. And then she lay there, her clothing damp from the dew on the grass and in complete disarray, her cheeks smudged, her hair adorably mussed, one shoe dangling from her toe.
We were stunned to silence for a moment before Belfry chirped from her purse, the contents of which were scattered about the lawn. “Are you effin’ kidding me, Boss? What was that?” He waddled out of the mouth of her handbag through the grass, stunned and disoriented, puttering like a drunk.
Instantly, she was on her feet and scooping him up in her palm to drop kisses on his snout. “Oh, Bel! Are you okay? I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened!” And then her eyes cleared and she realized where we’d landed.
More silence followed as she actually processed where we’d ended up.
And then she tipped her head back and laughed with such gusto, I feared Officer Nelson would burst from the house, thinking a madwoman had lost all her marbles on our lawn.
Stevie must have remembered, too, as she muffled her hysterical giggles with her arm over her mouth. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she whispered, and then she snorted. Naturally, she did it with grace and elegance, but snort she did.
When she’d composed herself, she looked up toward the house where our outdoor lighting shone, and the house made a magnificent silhouette against the velvety dark sky.
“How did this happen?” she squeaked, setting Bel on her shoulder to begin searching for the contents of her purse.
“I’ve not a clue, Stephania. One moment you were prepared to do battle with a very large bloke, the next we were here. Did you feel anything? See anything magical?”
“It was like sucking feeling, yes, Zero? Like being sucked into tube and spit out the other end.”
Stevie nodded, dumping her compact in her purse. “It was kind of like that, but even when I was a witch, I didn’t have teleportation on my roster of things I was capable of doing, Win. I mostly just talked to dead people. I don’t get it.”
Since Stevie’s magic had so cruelly been taken from her, and her coven leader, Baba Yaga, had banned her, she’d had very small blips where she was capable of using her powers.
We’re still not sure how she can hear both Arkady and I, as grateful as we are that she can. Yet, this feat seemed a rather enormous leap from the small things that had come back to her since being dewitched.
Sitting cross-legged on the lawn, she set her purse in her lap and sighed into the night. “Let’s not dwell on the how. It’ll only make me a sad panda when I can’t figure out how to do a repeat performance.”
“Oh, Dove. I’m sorry. Truly.” And I was. I hated that she longed for something she had no control over and might never acquire again. There was nothing I’d like more than for Stevie to have her powers back. Though, I wondered often, would she want to go back to Texas if she did? Would her coven even accept her again?
But Stevie, my irrepressible optimist, dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Okay, so before I go inside and have to make nice with Dana, let’s discuss what we would have discussed on the way home in the car.” Then her eyes went wide. “My car! Oh, for Pete’s sake, I can’t lose another car! My insurance company’s going to consider me a hazard and raise my premiums sky-high!” she wailed.
“You are rich, Stephania,” I reminded her. I loved reminding her, because I knew it irked her when I reminded her she didn’t have to be so thrifty.
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “We’re rich, and that’s beside the point, Win. It’s not how you stay rich. Waste not, want not.”
“Fear not, Boss. I’ll dial up AAA as soon as we get inside and send ’em out there,” Bel reassured her.
“You’re the gift that keeps on giving, Bel. Thank you. Now, those two at the bar. I think we can all agree there’s very little truth to what they say, and they’re just in it for their fifteen minutes and whatever they can get, yes? Because I promise you, I did not offer Sassafras money to meet with me.”
I chuckled. “Sunflower, and do we entirely disbelieve them? Or did they have some plausible information?”
Stevie twisted her lips. “I dunno, Win. They didn’t really tell me anything you couldn’t gather just from looking at the scene as some kind of rubbernecker or ambulance chaser. The only thing they got right, and it might just be luck, is the timing. If Inga dropped the baby off just before we found him, she could have surely made it to Seattle and been in a car accident at two in the morning.”
“Fair enough, though let’s not discount them totally. We’ll let them simmer on the backburner for now. On to more pressing matters, the gorilla that attacked you. What did you observe before you whisked us home so magically?”
“His cologne!” she crowed excitedly. “He’d either had an accidental run-in with a perfumer or he’d bathed in it, but I smelled it before he tackled me. Musky, kind of woodsy. I’d know it if I smelled it again. Also, he had on a fake leather jacket. I heard it crinkle when he lifted his arms to steamroll me, but for sure it was fake because if anyone knows the crinkle of real leather, it’s me after years of hunting down vintage clothing. Plus, I felt it when he wrapped his arms around me like some octopus. Also, he’s bald, isn’t he? Did you see, Win?”
Ah. My dove. She’s wonderful, isn’t she? “What makes you think that?” I prodded, hoping to show her exactly how finely honed her skills of observation had become.
She jabbed a finger into the dark. “When he knocked me down, his head brushed my cheek and it was bald, I’m sure of it.”
“Well done, Dove. He was, indeed, bald. Shiny bald. Did you see, hear, feel anything else?”
She shook her head this time, toying with a thatch of grass. “You mean beside the fact that he was built like a brick wall? No. He virtually came out of nowhere, but I did hear what he said. Did you?”
“Oh, I did! I did, my petunia! Pick me, pick me!” Arkady teased, nudging me in the ribs.
“I remember, too! He said, ‘Who are you and what are you looking for?’ Am I right?”
“Bravo,” I congratulated her. “Yes. That’s exactly what he said.”
“Did he look familiar to either of you guys? Like, maybe someone you’ve crossed paths with in your spy days?”
“Nyet,” Arkady muttered in disappointment. “But he is big like bull. Big-big bull.”
“That goes double for me. Never seen him before. Can’t pin him for any of Von Krause’s crew. So, now we must figure out what that attack meant and how it relates to Sunflower and Dandelion.”
“It’s Leaf, wise guy, and do you think it really does relate to them? How could anyone know I went there to talk to them about what they claim to have seen? I was careful about not posting on their Facebook page, so it couldn’t be that. Or! Maybe they really did see something, if not everything, and this person is watching anyone who talks to them?”
I rubbed my temples. “Fair point, Stephania. Fair indeed. However, this leads us nowhere.”
Her shoulders sagged beneath her denim shrug, still hanging askew. “It sure doesn’t. Well, except for the time of the accident. The time works. But
we’re no closer to knowing for sure whether it was Inga in that car or if it was a staged accident to throw off Von Krause.” As she paused, I saw her eyes light up. “Do you think it wasn’t Inga at all who dropped the baby here? Maybe it was someone else? Like a nanny, or aunt, or whatever. Someone who was trying to protect the baby from his crazypants grandpappy?”
“But that would mean this unknown person had very sensitive information. Only Inga knew about this house, Stephania. I don’t believe she’d confide in anyone. She knows what breaking a confidence can produce. Her father is all about severe consequences for telling his secrets. She’d seen it time and again since her childhood, and lived in sheer terror of him and his dastardly deeds.”
Her sigh was wistful as she rose and brushed herself off, putting Belfry back in her purse. “Okay. Let’s table this discussion until we’ve had some time to let it simmer. I want to get in there and be sure Hardy was okay while I was gone. Also, I’m certain Officer Nelson is missing his bedtime, which, as I recall, is eleven p.m. sharp and it’s almost eleven-thirty. You know how crabby he gets if he doesn’t get his regimented eight hours.”
I smiled at the thought of Dana and his schedule, but what concerned me more were Stevie and Hardy. Stevie’s maternal instincts were in high gear. As much as I prayed for Inga’s safety, and that it had truly been she who’d left the baby on our steps, I also prayed Stevie would be able to handle parting with Hardy if that time came.
“As you wish. We can’t have Officer Nelson off kilter, can we? After you, Dove,” I murmured as she made her way over the lawn and up the front porch stairs.
Yet, Stevie stopped mid-step and cocked her head. “You guys hear that?” she whispered.
Both Arkady and I stopped all motion to listen. “Arkady Bagrov hears nothing.”
“Neither does Winterbutt,” I joked.
“I’m telling you, I hear a pig oinking. It has to be Cris P. Bacon. I know it!”
“Maybe you truly are too caught up in hoping to help Mr. Piscatello, Stephania. I know you wish to ease his mind about this Rainbow Bridge, but I don’t think it exists, and the wish to please him has manifested in you hearing things.”
Stevie grimaced. “Well, I hear you two. Why’s it so hard to think I’d hear a pig? I’m telling you, he’s up there somewhere, and I’m onto the little bugger. Anyway, forget it. We have a babysitter to relive. C’mon, boys.”
Upon entering the house, I can’t quite explain why or how, but I sensed something different—an electric vibration, if you will. As did Arkady, who looked to me with a question in his green eyes.
“Stevie!” someone squealed, rushing out of the parlor, arms open wide, heels clacking on the hardwood floor.
The raven-haired stranger—exceptionally attractive, I might add—threw herself at Stephania and hugged her.
“And that was when I faintly heard her whisper in disbelief, “Winnie?”
Oh, heavens.
Chapter 8
Winnie whispered something I couldn’t hear before setting Stevie away from her and smiling widely just as Officer Nelson came around the corner, with Melba not far behind.
“Can you even believe our flight’s been delayed for two days now?” the woman asked Stevie, who looked as though she’d been caught shoplifting. “We didn’t want to come back and upset the baby by leaving him all over again, so we thought we would stick it out and wait for the next flight.”
“I thought you said it was three days, Winnie?” the ever-observant Officer Nelson inquired with a cock of his head, his eyes serious as he looked from the stranger to Stevie.
How splendid and awkward that Stephania’s friend had turned up.
Melba, her hair pulled upward in its usual braids, secured by a wide red headband pushed up above her ears, nodded, too. “Yep-yep. That’s what she said.”
Winnie sighed, her slender shoulders slumping as though she’d been through a terrible tragedy. “Two, three, I can’t remember anymore. I’m drunk on airport food and coffee,” she said, followed by a tinkling laugh.
Officer Nelson placed a hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. “Boy, do I get that. I know how awful flight delays can be. I was once stuck in Sandusky for five days. Do you know what’s in Sandusky? Nothing. That’s what.”
Stevie nodded now, as well, almost too animatedly. “Yeah. That stinks, Winnie. You should have called me and told me. I would have made sure…I was here.”
But Winnie just shook her head and laughed again, her coal eyes bright. “Oh, we’ll survive. It’s like I was telling your friends Dana and Melba, I figured I’d just pop in and get a quick snuggle with my boy before we actually get on a real plane and go on a real vacation. Thank goodness we have you, Stevie, looking after our little Harlow.”
“Hardy,” Stevie immediately corrected, then turned red—because while Stevie had become quite proficient at making up tall tales with people she didn’t know, lying to people she liked and respected was uncomfortable for her.
But Winnie just laughed again and gave Stevie’s shoulder a playful shove. “You know we call him Harlow sometimes. And I know you hate it, and you think it’s a ridiculous nickname, but Ben promised me a compromise if I agreed to Hardy. My dead aunt Harlow would be so disappointed to know my husband hates her name.”
Numbly, Stevie nodded her head then covered herself by grinning. “Right. That husband of yours. So difficult, right?”
Winnie squeezed Stevie’s shoulders and laughed. “But hot. So what’s a girl to do but compromise?”
Officer Nelson smiled, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “She took us by surprise tonight, didn’t you? Wish you’d let me know she had a key to the back door so I didn’t go all cop on her. Scared the life out of me and Melba.”
Melba’s cheeks went a delightful pink as she drove her hands into the pockets of her favorite pleather rhinestoned jacket. “Nearly had a heart attack. But all’s well.”
Stevie, who’d finally composed herself by taking a breath and getting on board with this elaborate lie, now smiled. “Did everything go okay? Did Hardy eat all his pizza and beer?”
Dana smiled back, his grin teasing. “He absolutely did. He favors sausage, as a by the way. What a great kid you have, Winnie. A total delight. Went to bed without a peep. Really enjoyed my time with him. And now, we’ve got to get going. You ready, Melba?”
She nodded, clearing her throat. “Real pleasure to meet you, Winnie. Stevie? Let’s try to get together for a caffeine fix one day next week, yeah?”
Stevie gripped Melba’s arm and smiled once more. They’d struck up a small friendship, having the occasional lunch together since they’d met at Christmas. Yet, I sensed Stevie held back from totally immersing herself in a relationship with Melba, and I suspected that had to do with losing all of her friends once before.
“Definitely. I’m sorry it’s been so crazy lately with summer tourists, but I promise to give you a buzz late next week, okay?”
Melba nodded as she made her way to the door behind Officer Nelson in a timid fashion, as though she were a little embarrassed by something. “Done deal. Oh, and you have something in your hair,” she said, plucking at a strand on Stevie’s scalp and pulling out a stray leaf. “See you guys later.”
“Lovely meeting you both!” Winnie called after them with a wave of a delicate hand, her voice melodic and sweet.
As the door closed, Stevie fell back against it and sighed. “Winnie Yagamowitz, did you forget how to text a girl? Jeez Louise, lady!”
Winnie grabbed for Stevie’s hand and winced. “I’m sorry. It was impulsive of me to just pop in, but Ben was off with the kids and all my girlfriends were otherwise engaged. Baba’s off in Istanbul, where she can’t keep track of me. So I thought I’d surprise you and we could chat for a couple of hours before anyone noticed I was gone. I forget everyone here in Ebenezer Falls is a human.”
Ah, Stevie is always telling us about Winnie, her witch friend. A witch, a rather powerful one, from her o
ld life back in Paris, Texas. What a pleasure to finally sort of meet her.
Stevie, whom I could clearly see was thrilled to have Winnie in her midst, pulled her friend into a hug and squeezed her tight. “I’m so happy to see you, I can’t even put it into words, but please tell me you didn’t just pop into the parlor out of thin air.”
Winnie laughed and plucked another leaf from Stephania’s hair. “Don’t be silly. It was out there in the turkey’s bed—did you know you have a turkey?—and you know I’m still trying to get my landings straight. Thankfully it wasn’t in the parlor, because your two friends were pretty intense in there,” she said on a chuckle as she fanned herself.
“My sweet malutka, who is this enchantress with hair the color of the bird called raven?”
Stevie shot a stern look up toward the ceiling as she led Winnie into the kitchen. “You behave, you cad. This is my dear, very married friend, Winnie Yagamowitz. She’s a witch. So watch yourself or she’ll cast a spell on you the likes of which no spy has ever seen.”
Winnie looked up at the ceiling then back at Stevie. “The ghosts you were telling me about, I presume? Is the one you fancy—”
“Yes!” Stevie almost shouted. “That’s Arkady Bagrov and Crispin Winterbottom, or Win, as we call him. Those are my ghosts.”
“She can’t hear us, Dove?”
Stevie shook her head. “Nope. We witches all have our talents, hearing dead people isn’t one Winnie shares with me…er, shared.”
Winnie looped her arm through Stevie’s and smiled sympathetically. “How’s that going, honey? Are you adjusting to this new witchless life?”
“She’s fine,” Bel crowed from inside Stevie’s purse. “No, she’s great. Tell that to that crotchety old aunt of yours, would ya?”
Ah, yes. Winnie’s husband was the nephew of Baba Yaga, who was not a favorite of Belfry’s. Though, the one time I encountered her, I’d found her quite pleasant, if not odd in her eighties clothing and makeup.
Ain't Love a Witch? (Witchless in Seattle Mysteries Book 6) Page 8