Shaking my head, I quickly went inside Uncle Will’s building. I hoped he could explain everything from Elissa’s fantasies to Chief Neville’s claims, but in my heart of hearts, I was afraid the only explanation was one I wasn’t ready to believe. Was it possible that magic really did exist?
CHAPTER NINE
Malice in Wonderland
As I entered the law offices, an extraordinarily beautiful man with white-blond hair sitting behind the desk glanced away from the computer. I had expected it to be just Uncle Will and me, but evidently, even attorneys conducted regular business on Sunday.
The receptionist’s startling bright blue eyes examined me, then he cocked his head as if asking who I was and why I was there.
I introduced myself and waited for him to speak.
Instead, he quickly typed something and turned the screen so I could see it. HI! MY NAME IS EZEKIEL PROVO. I CAN’T HEAR OR SPEAK, BUT I CAN READ LIPS.
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking his hand, I asked to see my uncle.
Ezekiel’s fingers flew on the keyboard. MR. MAYER IS WITH A CLIENT BUT WILL BE FREE SHORTLY. HAVE A SEAT.
I nodded my thanks and sat on one of the two chairs flanking a coffee table. As I waited, I glanced at a magazine. It was one I didn’t recognize but had some tasty sounding recipes and articles with interesting looking DIY projects.
Leafing through the pages, I tried to calm my racing thoughts, but they kept slipping back to Elissa’s revelations and the police chief’s odd behavior. I was lost in a fantasy of what my life might have been like if my father hadn’t been murdered and he and my mother had raised me in Echo Springs, when an imposing woman with coal black hair swept by me and marched out the door.
She wore a gorgeous black and taupe Max Mara sheath with a pink linen blazer, shoes, and purse. I quickly added up the cost in my head, which came to a staggering thirty-five hundred dollars. And that didn’t even count the jewelry.
“Calista, wait!” Uncle Will burst out of his office and scampered after the woman, but before he made it to the exit, I heard a car engine roar and tires squeal.
“I think you’re too late,” I murmured.
Turning to me, Uncle Will shrugged and said, “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” He gestured for me to follow him and once we were behind his closed office door and he was sitting at his desk. He asked, “Did you sign the paperwork I gave you yesterday?”
“Not yet.” I settled into the leather wing chair facing him. “I haven’t had a chance to read them yet. I’ll get to it tonight.”
“Please do.” Uncle Will’s words were sharp, but he seemed to catch himself and added, “It’s just imperative we tie up the loose ends so I can turn over the estate to you. I can allow you to live in Dora’s house, but I can’t grant you access to any funds without those documents completed.”
“Sure. I understand.” I frowned. “Does that mean I can’t open up the candy store before the formalities are met?”
“No. You can open up.” Uncle Will leaned forward. “In fact, it would be good if you went there for at least a few hours today. The keys are on the ring I gave you yesterday, and I’ll call Inga Iverson and ask her to meet you there. She’s worked for Pandora as long as I can remember and can get you going on the right path.”
“Okey-dokey.” I wondered why he was so eager for the store to be opened, but I had so many other questions I shoved that one aside and asked, “Who was that woman who stormed out of here?”
“Calista Pendergast, Cole’s mother.” Uncle Will’s gaze fastened on a painting of Benjamin Franklin on the wall behind me. “She’s been out of town, or you would have met your last night.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “She seemed sort of angry.” I wasn’t sure what it was about Calista that made me pursue the matter, but something was nudging me to find out what she was mad about.
“She was just upset that a matter she’d hoped would be resolved was still up in the air.” Uncle Will continued to study Ben and his kite. “I can’t say more. Attorney-client privilege, you understand.”
“Right.” I took a legal pad from my purse, clicked on my pen, and said, “I have a few questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” Uncle Will chuckled dryly.
“I’ll start with the easy ones.” I put a tick by the first item on my list. “Where can I buy a cell phone?”
Uncle Will’s eyes twinkled as he opened a drawer in his desk, rummaged inside, and then tossed me a sealed box. I caught it and read the label. It was the newest version of the Samsung Android.
“I figured you’d need this.” Uncle Will beamed. “It’s on my plan now, but I’ll set up a new account for you with Horizon. I’m afraid it’s the only carrier that works in Echo Springs.”
“Thank you,” I stuttered. “You’ll have to let me pay you for it.”
“I’ll add it to your legal bill.” Uncle Will winked. “Which reminds me, I’ve also put you on my charge account. Here’s a card you can use until we get the estate settled and you can set up your own line of credit.”
“Wow. That is so sweet of you. Thanks again.” I tucked the cell and credit card into my handbag, then asked, “Is there a real estate agent in town you can recommend?”
“Sorry. There isn’t any.” His knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of the desktop. “I hope you aren’t thinking of selling Dora’s house or the store.”
“Not at the moment,” I hedged. “But I can, right? It’s not prohibited by her will?”
“Not in so many words.” Uncle Will pursed his lips. “But I doubt you’d find any buyers. Outsiders are unaware of Echo Springs.”
“Because the townspeople cast spells to keep Echo Springs hidden from outsiders?” I figured this was as perfect an opening as I would get to discuss Elissa’s claims that we were all magical beings.
“Precisely.” Uncle Will didn’t blink at my outrageous statement. Instead, he seemed pleased that I’d brought it up.
“So...” I drew the word out unsure exactly how to proceed, then I mentally shrugged and blurted out, “Are telling me that everything Elissa claims is true?”
“If you’re referring to the Ravenscraft Shield, the good and bad magic, and your powers, then yes,” Uncle Will assured me.
Well crap! I sat there gaping at him as if he’d grown two heads. I had really been hoping he’d be the voice of reason.
When I remained silent he got up, walked around his desk, and sat in the chair beside me. “I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s why I was so worried about presenting you to the council at your welcome party.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “They insisted on meeting you immediately, and my magic isn’t strong enough to resist their directives.”
“Who are on the council?” Out of everything he’d just said, I’m not sure why I asked that particular question.
“Let’s test your ability and see if you can name them.” Uncle Will’s nose twitched.
“Um.” I thought back to last night, and immediately, faces started to pop into my head. “JFK, James Dean, Princess Diana, and that woman who reminded me of that country music singer. I couldn’t think of her name.”
“Right.” Uncle Will beamed at me, “Patrick, Jeremy, Francine, and Virginia are four of the members. There are two more. You will be the seventh.”
I concentrated then said, “Cole and Lucas.”
“You got them all on your first try.” Uncle Will chuckled. “Do you still doubt your ability?”
“You were afraid about introducing me to them before I was told about my power because one of them is the master or mistress of the corrupt magic,” I guessed.
I was far from convinced, but it was hard to deny that as each image appeared in my head a sense of power radiated from all of them.
“Probably. Or one of their close family members.” Uncle Will sighed. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to protect you and there was no time for Elissa to explain things to you beforehand or teach to put up your own
defenses.”
“Why does most of the council look like dead celebrities?” Another random question that seemed to come out of my mouth instead of the more important ones. “I can’t believe that’s a coincidence. It really was Princess Di, JFK, James Dean, and...” I struggled to remember the singer’s name.
“Patsy Cline,” Uncle Will supplied. “And, yes it was them as they were known out in the world.”
“I knew it.” I pumped my fist.
Uncle Will shook his head at my immature display of enthusiasm and explained, “All citizens of Echo Springs are allowed to go out into the world for a certain period.” He leaned back in his chair and seemed happy to teach me about the town.
“Like the Amish Rumspringa?”
“Pretty close. We call it Saorsa,” He stroked his chin. “While the Amish leave their community in their teens, our people can go at any time. Most go in their twenties and return ten or fifteen years later.”
“But why do they all seem to be the same age as when they died?”
“Within the confines of Echo Springs, we age as normal until we reach twenty-nine.” Uncle Will tapped the arm of his chair. “After that, we grow older at a much slower rate. That’s why most of those who choose to spend time in the outside world return before their thirty birthdays. When they’re ready to return, they stage their deaths and come back.”
“Princess Di was thirty-six, and JFK was well into his forties.” I protested.
“Yes,” Uncle Will tsked. “They got into a situation where it was difficult to make people believe they died.” He shrugged. “And even though they waited for the right moment, there are still conspiracy theories about what happened to them.”
“If they’re born here,” I knew that I needed to move on from this subject since I had so much more to talk about to Uncle Will, but I had to ask one more question, “how do they integrate into the outside world without just appearing out of nowhere?”
“One of our families has the ability to revise history. Cloe, one of the three sisters, can weave the backstory of the person entering the outside world into whatever situation they choose.” He chuckled. “With social media so ubiquitous now, folks generally no longer choose the celebrity life as it’s too difficult to return. Cloe can only reweave once per person so she can’t do anything to help them with their exit.”
“Then I’ll stop aging at the normal rate too?” I still didn’t believe everything, but this part sounded good.
Uncle Will nodded. “The only time you’ll age at a normal rate is if you’re outside of the Echo Springs city limits, which starts at the Ricochet Bridge.”
“So you’re...”
“A hundred and fifty-two.” He smiled at my gasp.
While everything Uncle Will had related was fascinating, if not beyond bizarre, I decided it was time to move onto the matter of my dad. “What can you tell me about my father’s murder?”
“It was one of the biggest losses Echo Springs has ever experienced.” Uncle Will laced his fingers over his stomach and closed his eyes, then basically repeated what Elissa had already told me word for word.
“Didn’t the police investigate?” I demanded. “Didn’t they have any leads?”
“Chief Neville collected evidence, but there was nothing. No forensics. No witnesses. No security cameras.” Uncle Will sighed. “Everyone assumed it was the master of the corrupt magic and knew that he or she would have removed all traces of their presence.”
I thought about his explanation. Even if I believed the whole good versus bad magic scenario, whoever had deprived me of having a father and a family needed to be brought to justice. And with or without my alleged special abilities, I intended to find that person and make sure he or she was punished for taking my dad’s life and ruining my mother’s and mine.
CHAPTER TEN
Babe in the Woods
Uncle Will had contacted Inga Iverson, and she had agreed to meet me at six at the candy store to show me the ropes, which left me a little over an hour to grab something to eat. With Elissa’s shocking claims, I hadn’t been able to take more than a few bites of the lunch she’d provided, and my breakfast English muffin was long gone.
I considered going to the diner, but I wasn’t ready to meet any more of Echo Springs’ citizens. Which made me realize that I hadn’t seen a single fast-food restaurant. No McDonald’s. No Pizza Hut. No Starbucks. How would I survive?
After my initial panic, I could see the bright side. I’d save a heck of a lot of money, and doubtlessly, I’d also eat healthier—something I’d promised myself to do for quite a while. I’d start my new meal plan by going home and making myself a big salad.
Of course once I was back in Aunt Pandora’s fabulous kitchen staring into the fully stocked refrigerator, I wavered and immediately rationalized that I’d hardly had anything all day, so I needed some protein. And dairy was part of the food pyramid. At least I thought it was.
Next thing I knew, I had built a thick ham and Swiss sandwich on a crusty baguette. I piled arugula and slices of pepper on top, then slathered the bread with Dijon mustard. After nabbing a Diet Coke and a container of deli potato salad from the fridge, I grabbed a fork and napkin, then wandered into the family room and flopped onto the couch.
Too tired to start digging through Aunt Pandora’s desk, I picked up the remote and turned on the TV. With the weirdness I’d already experienced in Echo Springs, I was half afraid the only channels would show reruns and old movies, but I was pleasantly surprised when I pushed the menu button and saw that my aunt had satellite. I was even happier to discover that she’d splurged on the deluxe package.
After a few minutes of watching various news programs, I clicked over to Bravo, which was showing a Project Runway marathon. Relaxing against the sofa’s comfy cushions, I bit into my sandwich and watched Tim Gunn tell the contestants to “make it work.”
By the time I was full, and they had sent the loser to pack up his scissors, it was five-fifty-seven. Leaping from the sofa, I brushed the crumbs from my shirt, ran out to the truck, and jumped behind the wheel.
Thank goodness, the house was only a couple streets over from the candy store. I made it to the shop a socially acceptable five minutes behind schedule.
The door swung open before I reached it and a slender ash blonde in her fifties said with a slight Swedish accent, “You are late.”
“Sorry.” I automatically apologized, but then I recalled that I was her boss and said, “I can’t wait to see my store. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“It is good you are here.” Inga moved aside, and I stepped over the threshold.
“Hmm,” I murmured noncommittally. The verdict was still out on that point.
She led me through a maze of antique tables that held a variety of gift items and other bric-a-brac, past a candy display case, and to the register. Surprisingly, it was a modern computerized version, not the vintage brass one I’d been expecting.
“Pandora and I alternated days.” Inga reached under the counter for a notebook, flipped it open, and handed it to me. “Usually we are open from ten to six, but because we have been closed for so long, I felt tonight could be an exception.”
A quick glance showed that my aunt worked Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, while Inga had Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. It seemed like a breeze after my long hours and six-day weeks at Crystal's Closet.
“So the shop doesn’t get busy enough to warrant more than one clerk at a time?”
It concerned me a little that the store might not make enough money to live on. I still wasn’t sure what kind of estate my aunt had left me. I really needed to read those papers Uncle Will had given me to sign.
“It is more a steady stream of customers than a huge rush at one time.” Inga’s expression was stolid. “But do not worry. We keep busy.”
“Well, that’s good.” I studied the small shop. “I’ve worked retail before, and I know getting slammed isn’t fun. People can b
e so impatient.”
Inga nodded, but didn’t comment, instead, she asked, “Shall I give you a tour and show you the books?”
“That would be great.”
She guided me through an archway at the rear of the store and opened a door. “We have three rooms back here. This is the largest, and we rent it out for meetings and to the bakery when they host a ladies’ high tea.”
It was furnished with several round tables and chairs and decorated in vintage wallpaper. The light fixtures all had rose-colored glass that cast a flattering glow on anyone seated below them.
“The next largest is our prep area. Your aunt used it to concoct our signature truffles.” Inga opened the door, and I saw a stainless steel counter, refrigerator, and cooktop. “Once she perfected the recipe, I would take over and make them in bulk.”
“I’d like to attempt to continue that practice.” I had tried my hand at some candy making last Christmas and given my best customers small boxes of my chocolates as gifts. They’d been a big hit.
“Certainly.” Inga led me to the last door in the hallway and opened it. “This is our storage room.” She gestured to the shelving that took up the left side, then pointed to a large floor safe and a tiny desk on the right. “Pandora used this as an office as well.”
Inga walked inside the room, opened a drawer, and handed me a thumb drive. “The combination to the safe is on this, as is the store’s accounts.” She stared at me, appraisingly. “I hope you know Quick Books.”
“Nope.” I shrugged and crossed my fingers. “But I’m a fast learner.” Which was the truth, unless my notoriously bad math skills turned out to be a problem.
As Inga and I returned to the front of the store, a middle-aged man dressed in worn jeans, a chambray shirt, and a faded green John Deere gimme cap thrust open the glass door and walked inside.
He scanned the shop and his gaze immediately fastened on me. He nodded, apparently to himself, took off his hat, and moved until he and I were too close for my comfort. Then without uttering a word, he proceeded to gawk at me.
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