"Shut up, Penny," Sam hissed, but for once, Penny ignored her.
"I'm telling you, it was Mr. Giordano."
So my father wasn't a figment of my imagination.
The jukebox chose that moment to end its silence and "Big Mouth Strikes Again" by the Smiths came on. Lil had finally forgiven me, but now I had bigger problems. If Penny had seen my dad, it was only a matter of time before news of his presence would be all over Nightshade.
CHAPTER TEN
When my shift ended, I rushed home to try to catch my sisters. I wanted them to hear the news about Dad from me instead of Penny's big mouth.
Rose and Poppy were hanging out in the living room. Poppy was in sweats, but Rose still wore a white lab coat, so she must have just gotten off work.
"Don't you ever take that thing off?" I teased.
Rose blushed. "I brought it home to wash it," she said, but I knew she was proud of her job at the university. Her boss, Dr. Franken, was a sort of superstar of the science world, always making headlines with her research in genetics.
"How was work?" Poppy asked, as she turned the pages of a fashion magazine.
I took a deep breath. "Fine," I said, losing my nerve. "How about you?"
"The weirdest thing happened," she replied.
"What?" Rose said.
"Remember Mrs. Wilder, Elise's grandmother?" Poppy said. "She came by the stand and just started stuffing cotton candy in her mouth."
"You mean without paying?" It seemed out of character for the normally elegant matriarch to do something so vulgar.
"Exactly," Poppy said. "And she ate about five pounds of the stuff and then ran off with this dazed look on her face."
"I saw Mr. Krayson doing the same thing at the new donut shop," I said. It dawned on me that I'd seen several Nightshade residents scarfing sweets lately.
" That's strange even by Nightshade standards," Rose commented.
I saw my opening. "Well, here's something else strange," I began. "I didn't know if I should tell you, but Penny Edwards came into the diner today..." I paused, uncertain how to continue. "She was gossiping about Dad."
"When will they get sick of that old scandal!" Rose snapped.
"No, it's something new. Penny said Dad's in town," I blurted.
Poppy sat up. "Like she would recognize Dad if she saw him," she scoffed.
"No," I said slowly. "But I would."
I told them about the man I'd seen by the dumpster.
My sisters were obviously as stunned as I was by the news. "I'm not positive it was him," I admitted. "He didn't seem to recognize me." I tried to keep the hurt from my voice.
Rose said, "How could you not recognize your own father?"
"Six years is a long time," I said. "Do you remember everything from that long ago?"
"Yes, actually, I do," Rose said. "I have an excellent memory."
"Of course you do," I said. Rose was brilliant. And besides, she was fourteen when Dad disappeared. I was only twelve.
"I'm glad Mom's still in Italy," Poppy said. "She'd freak out if it turns out Dad is in town and just hasn't contacted us!"
The phone rang. It was Mom, calling long distance. I was really glad she couldn't see us, because I'm sure our faces all looked guilty.
We chatted for a few minutes about what she was doing in Italy, although she was evasive about the particulars of the case she was working on. Then she asked, "How's everything going there?"
I exchanged glances with my sisters, knowing we were thinking the same thing. We couldn't tell her, not yet.
But how much longer would we have before she came home and found out herself?
"Well, we were planning a welcome-home dinner. Any idea of how much longer you'll be there?" I was fishing for information, but it wasn't a bad idea, anyway. After all, Mom had been gone a long time. She deserved a warm welcome when she returned. I knew my best cooking efforts couldn't compare with the delicious meals we'd eaten in Italy, but I'd try to make Mom a truly memorable dinner.
I couldn't help but feel that maybe I was planning to cook a meal for her to silence my guilty conscience.
She sighed. "I'm afraid this case isn't winding up as quickly as I had anticipated. I'll be gone for at least another two weeks."
We had some time, then. And she wouldn't hear any rumors before then, not all the way in Italy. Besides, Mom had turned a deaf ear to gossip a long time ago. How else could she cope with the rumors that Dad had run off with another woman?
Part of me thought that I should tell Mom that Dad might be back in town, but I just couldn't get the words out.
That night I had the strangest dream, probably due to the lethal combination of guilt and nachos. In the dream, I saw my father's death. My sisters and I were there, but we did nothing. He was on the ground, in agony, and we were oblivious. Needless to say, I woke up gasping and sweaty, thinking that I'd have to ask Rose and Poppy to shed some light on my dream later, if they could. I'd heard about people who made predictions based on their dreams, but to my knowledge, no one in our family had that ability.
I did know that I needed to get to the diner, however, so I threw on my clothes and hurried to work.
The dream lingered with me throughout the day. Was it just a nightmare or a manifestation of a precognitive ability I didn't know I possessed?
Afterwork, I was ambling along, tired from a long day, when I spotted the man again, dressed in the same outfit as before, walking in the opposite direction. He carried a large donut box and kept sniffing at it.
Tired or not, I had to follow him, if only to figure out if it really was my father or just a look-alike. I trailed him from a good distance, but he never even looked in my direction.
When I breathed in the wonderful scent of flowers, I realized we were nearing Natalie's grandmother's garden.
Dad, or the stranger who resembled him, paused only a fraction of a second, then vaulted the picket fence around Mrs. Mason's backyard. I was working up the nerve to do the same, when I heard a car, which pulled into Natalie's driveway.
Mrs. Mason and Natalie were home and, by the looks on their faces, wondering what the heck I was doing camped out in their front yard.
"Hi, there," I said, smiling brightly as they got out of the car. "I dropped by on the spur of the moment. I thought you might like another cooking lesson."
From the corner of my eye, I saw the shrubs moving. I'm pretty sure Mrs. Mason saw the movement, too, although her expression didn't change. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Another time, perhaps?" And with that, she took Natalie by the arm and marched into the house.
I looked around, but my father, or whoever he was, had vanished.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My sisters and I planned to investigate our newly returned father but, unfortunately, had no idea of his whereabouts. You would think that in a town the size of Nightshade, it would be easy to locate a person, especially someone as infamous as Rafe Giordano, or his look-alike, as the case might be.
No one was talking, either, except to say stuff like "Daisy, I hear your father is back in town." But after inquiring, I would trace the rumor back to Penny Edwards.
I was beginning to think he was a figment of my imagination. Still, I was glad Mom wasn't home. I could only imagine the frenzy she would work herself into over this.
On Friday, Poppy and I were going to have lunch with Rose on campus. I was curious to see where she worked, and besides, we needed to talk about Dad in a place where half the town wouldn't overhear the conversation. The campus was usually fairly deserted in the summer, except for the smaller number of students taking summer classes.
We followed Rose's directions and found the parking lot she had indicated. After that, we made a long trek through the campus grounds. The campus was a hodgepodge of architectural styles. We saw everything from classic brick to seventies modern buildings.
Rose's lab was located in a building that had seen better days. The paint was peeling in spots and the windows
needed washing. We went down a dingy, poorly lit hallway until we found the lab, but the door was locked.
"What should we do?" I said.
"Knock," Poppy suggested, "unless you want to send Rose a message telepathically. Or use my cell phone," she added dryly. I'd never thought about it before, but I wondered if it bugged Poppy that Rose and I could communicate nonverbally.
I tapped lightly on the door, but there was no answer.
"Pound on it," Poppy instructed. She whipped out her cell and punched in Rose's number. "She's not answering."
I knocked louder. Still no answer.
A moment later, the door opened a crack, revealing a woman in a lab coat. She had white cotton-candy hair, and I had to resist the impulse to take a bite.
"What do you want?" she snapped.
"Uh, we're here to see Rose Giordano," I said.
She didn't smile, but the severe look on her face lessened a bit. "You must be her sisters."
"Yes," Poppy said. "We're supposed to meet her for lunch. Is she here?" She peered through the doorway, but the woman stepped into the hallway and closed the door with a snap, effectively blocking Poppy's view.
"She left on an errand for me about an hour ago. I'm Dr. Franken."
After we had introduced ourselves, Rose came rushing up. She was carrying a stack of bakery boxes.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. To the professor she said, "I went to the Donut Hole, but they were already sold out."
Dr. Franken frowned. "I'm sure you did your best, my dear."
"I had to go to three different bakeries, but I managed to get everything on your list."
The professor cracked a smile. "Excellent." Without another word, she opened the door to the lab and disappeared behind it.
"Is she always like that?" Poppy said.
"She's a brilliant scientist," Rose said defensively. "She doesn't have time to stand around and chat."
"I'm sure she's very busy," I said, trying to avert a fight. "Let's eat. I'm starving."
Poppy pulled a compact out of her purse and applied a coat of lipstick. "How about the student center?" she suggested. "I want to get to know the campus. After all, I'll be going here in the fall."
On our walk to the student center, we passed a few people, but for the most part, campus seemed deserted.
Rose gave us a quick tour on the way. "Most of the food court is closed," she explained, "but a couple of the restaurants are still open."
"Why are they closed?" Poppy asked.
"Most of the students go home for the summer," Rose explained. "So it's mostly just faculty and staff left. Not too many people enroll in summer session."
"Oh," Poppy said. She looked crestfallen. "You mean I won't meet any frat guys today?"
"Doubtful," Rose said, smiling at me. It was nice to see Poppy show an interest in the opposite sex again.
We made our way to the food court and ordered sandwiches. There were plenty of empty tables, so we took a prime seat by a window, just in case one of Poppy's frat boys wandered by.
"I can't stay long," Rose said. "Dr. Franken has a project for me this afternoon."
After we had finished our lunches and Poppy was eying the dessert choices, I asked Rose something I'd been wondering about since we left the lab.
"What were all the bakery boxes for?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe she's hosting a breakfast tomorrow or something."
It would be kind of odd if she sent Rose out for donuts the day before a breakfast—especially since donuts were best fresh. Maybe Dr. Franken had a weird donut-based eating disorder or something.
"I thought you were her lab assistant," Poppy said, "not her personal assistant."
"I help with a lot of research," Rose protested. "And besides, Dr. Franken doesn't like to leave the lab."
"What? You mean like ever?" I thought that was a little odd.
"Hey, isn't that Mr. Bone?" Poppy said. She pointed to a tan, pudgy man in a polo shirt and khakis moving jerkily up the path toward the student center.
"What would he being doing on campus?" Rose said.
The door of the student center opened and Mr. Bone entered.
"Mr. Bone!" Rose waved at him, but he didn't even notice her. There was a snack kiosk in one corner and he headed for it without looking around. We watched in amazement as he ripped the wrappers off several candy bars and stuffed them into his mouth and then, as quickly as he'd come in, left, before the cashier could react.
Rose hurried after him, while Poppy and I went to the cashier. Poppy handed him a five-dollar bill. "Will this cover it?"
After the cashier handed Poppy her change, we raced after Rose and Mr. Bone. We caught up to her, but there was no sign of Mr. Bone anywhere.
Rose was talking on the phone, obviously to Nicholas.
"But I'm telling you, it was your dad," she said, then listened a minute.
"What's he saying?" Poppy said.
"Wait a minute," Rose said. "I can't talk to both of you at once."
Poppy made a face but quit talking.
"I think that's a good idea. Daisy and Poppy saw it, too. I'll see you tonight."
She hung up her phone.
"Well?" Poppy said.
"It couldn't have been Mr. Bone," she said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because," Rose said slowly, "Mr. Bone answered the phone when I called Nicholas at the funeral home."
We stared at each other.
"How is that even possible?" Poppy said.
"Maybe we were wrong," I said. "Maybe whoever it was just resembled Mr. Bone."
"You're kidding, right?" Poppy said. "That guy was the spitting image of Mr. Bone."
"Well, he can't be in two places at once, can he?" I challenged, but Poppy didn't have an answer.
"Where'd Mr. Bone the Second go?" Poppy said.
"He just disappeared," Rose replied. "He was here one minute and then, poof!"
We exchanged glances. "He was acting really spacey," I said.
Poppy said slowly, "And he's not the only one."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say Mr. Bone has a clone, just like in one of those science fiction movies," I joked. Rose glared at me. "Don't even joke about that."
"What?" I was startled by my normally placid sister's temper.
"About clones," she said. "Human cloning is a very controversial issue. There's no way someone at campus would clone a human being."
I frowned at her, perplexed. "No one said anything about anyone on campus creating a clone. Besides, I was just joking." Why was she so touchy?
"I'm sorry, Daisy. I'm a little sensitive. Some people have criticized Dr. Franken about her research methods."
"What are you trying to say? That Dr. Franken is involved in cloning?"
"Of course not," she said hotly.
Rose definitely had some hero worship thing going on with Dr. Franken. I couldn't imagine why, because from what I could see, the doctor didn't treat my sister very well.
"I'm trying to say that there's something weird going on in Nightshade. Weirder than usual," she said. "And the Nightshade City Council wants our help finding out what that weirdness is."
An actual invitation to a council meeting? I was thrilled.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Nightshade City Council meetings were usually held at Mort's Mortuary, the funeral home Mr. Bone owned, but this time the meeting was up at the Wilder Mansion, that historic home of Elise Wilder and her grandmother. There was an elegant restaurant on the premises, and a large ballroom where the city council would be meeting. It was also where we had had our prom—the last place Poppy had seen Gage.
Five minutes before midnight, my sisters and I stood on the doorstep of the mansion and knocked on the huge, ornately carved wooden door. It creaked open, and we were greeted by a petite woman with long black hair, piercing eyes, and a slinky black dress.
"Bianca!" I said, surprised. "It's great to see you. How are you?" She was a shifter wh
o had once saved my life, when she was in feline form. Who says black cats are unlucky? I hadn't realized she was still in town. Then again, I didn't get up to the restaurant in the mansion, where she worked, all that often. Cheeseburgers were more my speed than Cornish game hen. Although I would like to learn how to prepare that dish one day.
"I'm fine, Daisy," Bianca said, leading us down the hall toward the ballroom. "We're glad you could make it to the meeting."
"We're thrilled to be invited," I said.
"The council doesn't seem to be so secret anymore," Poppy commented. The Nightshade City Council meetings were usually confined to the original thirteen families, though I had managed to sneak into one once.
A troubled look crossed Bianca's face in the candlelight flickering from golden sconces on the walls. "These are extraordinary circumstances and the council thought it best to inform all paranormally connected residents about what's going on," she explained.
"What is going on?" Poppy asked anxiously.
"Patience, Poppy," Rose said sharply. She obviously didn't want to break any council protocol.
The Wilders were one of Nightshade's original thirteen families. Portraits of their stern-looking ancestors lined the walls of the hall. I was looking at one of a wide-eyed woman in a high-necked blouse. When I glanced back again, she had transformed into an owl. When I looked again, she was merely a woman with a hooked nose, round eyes, and snowy hair.
Bianca heard my gasp of surprise and smiled knowingly. "There's a long legacy of shifters in Nightshade," she said.
That reminded me that Bianca was good friends with a certain shifter family who I had some questions about. "How are the Paxtons these days?" I asked.
Bianca sighed. "Not so good," she said. "Their youngest son is not adjusting well to his change. Apparently they couldn't even get him to calm down enough to come to the meeting tonight. All new werewolves go through some difficult times, of course, but Wolfgang seems to be having an especially rough go of it."
"Do you think he's acting up just because he's a new shifter, or is there something more to it?" I asked.
"I don't know, Daisy," Bianca admitted. "All I know is that his parents are at the end of their rope."
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