Chapter 13

 

TO KEEP THE kids from asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer, I pulled my bangs over the reddened skin of my forehead before entering the house. Klickavail Valley was beginning to scare me more for its bogeyman denizens than for the bikers that made it their home. Compared to the Warriors of the Mountain, Jimbo and his buddies were fluff bunnies, all sweet-and-sunshine.

Miranda had left me a note that she’d brought home leftovers for me from Mrs. Trask’s house, and that she was upstairs in her room, reading. After a quick “hello” back and forth on the stairs, I ambled into the kitchen. The Tupperware container contained sliced roast beef, along with a substantial serving of garlic mashed potatoes and gravy. Arranging the food on a plate, I popped it in the microwave and, while nuking my dinner, I hunted in the downstairs bathroom for the antibiotic ointment. I ran a thin layer over the welt, hoping the redness would fade soon.

The microwave beeped and I cautiously extracted my plate, using a potholder to avoid getting burned on the glass. As I slid into my chair, I took a long whiff of the flecks of rosemary, marjoram, sage, and oregano swimming in the rich gravy. I closed my eyes as a mouthful of mashed potatoes slid down my throat. Yum. Heaven on a fork.

The phone rang. I wiped my lips on a napkin and answered. It was Murray. “Hey, what’s up?”

She snorted. “I just filled Jimmy in on our little adventure. He was not amused. And he never heard of that guy, Bear.”

“Really? I thought he knew just about everybody out there.”

“The guy’s probably new. People come and go from the enclave all the time, and nobody keeps track of everyone who comes through. I was thinking, though, we could go back this weekend and talk to the men like we’d planned to.”

“As long as we go before dark.” I had no desire for a reprise of our little adventure.

“Hell, yes! You’re not catching me out there at night again!”

We said goodnight and I hung up, wondering why she was so gung ho. Murray usually went through channels; she was a by-the-book woman whenever possible. However, the fact that she was snuggling with Jimbo might just up the ante. The loyalty factor, Harl and I’d dubbed it when talking about all the crazy—and not so crazy—things that women would do for their boyfriends, lovers, and husbands.

After finishing off Ida’s delicious meal, I trudged up to my bathroom, soaked for a good hour in a tub full of bubbles, and tumbled into bed, dead tired. At least all I had to do the next day was sell china and gossip with my customers.

 

 

CINNAMON AND I were rearranging a display of new teas that we’d just set up the week before when the bells over the door tinkled and I turned to see Murray, with Kip in tow. One look at her face told me that he was in some sort of trouble. I left Cinnamon to finish up and motioned them into my office.

Murray closed the door behind her and jerked her thumb toward one of the chairs. Kip slid into the seat as she took up her stance behind him, her hands on her hips.

“Kip has something he wants to tell you.”

I sat down behind my desk. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

My son’s gaze was glued to the floor as he mumbled. “I tried to sell monster fur.”

“Monster fur? What are you talking about?” I looked at Murray for help.

She cleared her throat. “Emerald, I caught your son on the street corner, hawking some dilapidated-looking dreadlocks that he and his buddy Sly were calling Klakatat Monster fur. They were charging a buck for a small swatch.”

Oh God! I stifled a laugh and gave him the look that I reserved for serious breaches of behavior. “Kip, maybe you should explain yourself?”

He bit his lip. “Umm, we said you got it up in Klickavail Valley and that you said it was fur from that monster.”

Shit! I burst into a coughing fit. My son was committing fraud and he was doing so under the shelter of my name! That damned Sly, he had to be behind this.

“Tell me, please, how in the world did you get the idea that this would be okay?” My desire to laugh vanished as I thought about the potential for disaster. Not only was Kip playing on the wrong side of the law, but what if someone like Cathy Sutton got wind of this? Time to put the breaks on, before this crap got out of hand.

Kip shrugged. “This mornin’ Sly and I wanted to go buy comic books, but we didn’t have any money and I didn’t want to get into my piggy bank. We got to joking about the monster, and then Rasta came in… I dunno whose idea it was, really, but Sly got the scissors and we cut a bunch of hair off.”

Rasta was Sly’s dog. Oh man, his mother would be pissed out of her mind. I didn’t know what breed it was, but the dog was bizarre, with long grey hair that trailed almost to the ground. Looked like it had dreadlocks.

“You cut off the dog’s hair and sold it as monster fur?”

With a flutter of his long lashes, Kip nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

He knew he was in trouble when he started calling me ma’am. I rubbed my forehead. The welt had faded, leaving only a pale red mark, but now a headache leaped up to take its place. “Just out of curiosity, how much hair did you cut off this dog?”

Again, a shrug. “We figured it’s summer, Rasta’s prob’ly hot. We didn’t hurt him, Mom! Honest!”

Yep. They’d shaved the dog bald. Now we’d all get to see what that poor thing looked like under all that hair. Shuddering, I turned to Murray. Time for good cop-bad cop. Unfortunately, since I was his mother, I always played “bad cop.” “So what now? Think you’d better book him?”

She hooked her thumbs through her belt loops as she towered over him, staring down with a gaze that could pierce steel. “I don’t know. First let’s see how bad things really are. Kipling, did you actually sell any fur?”

Kip’s lower lip wavered and he flashed me a look of panic. “N-n-n-not much. Just some to Suzy Warnoff and her cousin, Tyler. We charged them a buck each.”

Thank heavens for that. Right after we were done here, I’d call Farrah, Suzy’s mother and one of my regular customers, and tell her what happened.

I slowly stood up and leaned across my desk, staring at my son. “So, not only did you lie to them, but you lied in order to take their money. That’s stealing. I didn’t raise you to be a thief, and by God, you’re not going to end up one while you live under my roof.”

He pressed himself against the back of his chair. “I didn’t think of it that way! I didn’t mean to hurt anybody… it just… Sly thought it would be cool and we were laughing and joking around and… somehow we just… did it.”

I walked around the desk. “Perhaps next time you’ll think before you do something like this. You know, it seems to me that you and Sly have been in trouble a lot this past year.” I turned to Murray. “What’s happening to Sly?”

She shrugged. “His mother wasn’t home. I’ll have a talk with her later.”

About right. Sly’s mother paid as much attention to her kids as she would a fence post. “Well, what should we do about Kipling?”

“Hmm. Maybe rather than jail, he should serve a little time down at the Bread & Butter House, helping out people who don’t have any money to spend on things like monster fur?”

I flashed her a grateful smile. “Good idea.”

“Aw Mom!” The whiny-monster reared its head.

“Enough! It’ll do you good to see what life’s like for people who don’t have enough money to eat, let alone buy comic books. I’ll call them and make arrangements. In fact, I’ll probably go along myself. And Kip, since you took Suzy’s money, you need to dig out your piggy bank.”

That caught his attention. My parsimonious son hoarded every penny he got. I was proud of his ability to save up money for the things he really wanted, but he needed to remember this lesson.

“What?” He sounded about ready to choke.

“Since you aren’t going to jail, you’ll have to pay a fine. After you give Suzy and Tyler their money back, you can donate half of what you have left to the homeless shelter. Will that be enough, Detective Murray?”

Mur let him squirm for a minute. “Okay. But Kip, if I ever catch you up to a stupid stunt like that again, I’ll run you in. Got it?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

I walked Murray to the front door and we stood outside of the shop. “I can’t believe he did that. What am I going to do? I’ve already grounded him for the stunt he pulled in December. The way things are going, it will be a wonder if he makes it to twenty-one without ending up in juvey… or worse.”

She laughed. “Oh come on, Em. He’s a kid and kids do stupid things. I doubt that the thought that he might be doing something wrong ever entered his mind. But I would curtail how much time you let him spend with Sly. I know you feel sorry for the kid. I do, too. But Sly’s headed for trouble and you don’t want him taking Kip with him.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I shook my head. “Man, I hope this doesn’t get around.”

With a cockeyed grin, she headed for the door. “I’ve got to get back to work. I happened to be driving by when I saw those two on the street corner with a big sign proclaiming that they had Klakatat Monster fur. Spelled it wrong, too.”

I waved her off and returned to my office. Kip hadn’t budged an inch. I sat down beside him and tapped his knee. “You’re grounded from seeing Sly anymore except during school—”

“But that means I won’t see him till next month!”

“Hold on buster. Don’t you interrupt me again. We’ll talk about this when I get home. I want you to go straight home and stay there. And no Internet, and no phone calls to friends, and you can’t have anybody come over to play. Now scoot, and I’m going to call in fifteen minutes to make sure you got there.”

Without another word, he took off out of the store. I watched as he grabbed his bike and pedaled off in a mad rush. He would have just enough time to get home before I picked up the phone, and he knew it.

I turned back to Cinnamon, who was working the early lunch rush. Lana came bursting through the door, breathless. As she tied her apron around her waist, I picked up a stack of inventory sheets and headed for my office. Maybe I could get something done before the next crisis diverted my attention.

 

 

I WAS ALMOST through with the week’s paperwork when Cinnamon stuck her head in the door. “Harlow’s here to see you, Emerald.”

Shoving the stack of completed forms and reports away, I pushed myself out of my chair and stretched. My body ached and I realized that I was actually looking forward to Saturday’s yoga class. I was tired of feeling blah and sluggish.

Harlow was waiting at the counter. She wiggled her index finger at me.

“Hey, what’s up?” I gave her a quick hug. “Sorely needing to evict that kid, I see.”

She snickered. “Uh huh. Well, I’m hoping she holds off until James gets home. He called and said that he finally got his reservation confirmed and he’ll be flying into SeaTac next Thursday.”

“One week left, then. Wonderful!” Everybody who knew Harlow’s husband had worried about him the whole time he’d been in Africa on a photo-shoot. He’d had a few close run-ins, and I had no doubt his photo spread would be astounding.

She gave me a gentle smile. “I had to get out of the house. I couldn’t stand being cooped up any more, and when this baby gets her butt in gear and shows up, I won’t have much freedom to come gallivanting into town.”

I led her into the tearoom, where I filled her in on Kip’s short-lived crime spree.

She snorted lemonade through her nose. “Ouch! That hurt. I tell you, that boy will be the death of you yet. How will I ever cope with being a parent, Em? I’m just a big old kid myself!”

“Like I’m not?”

“Ha! Good point.” Pointing to the sandwich shelf, she asked if I would fetch her a turkey on sourdough. I snagged a couple, handing her one.

“So what else is going on? You have the nursery ready yet?”

Biting into the sandwich, she nodded. “Um hmm. All decorated and decked out. Say… Em… I need to tell you something.” She sounded serious.

“What’s up?”

“Andrew’s back in town.” She winced. She’d introduced us and was still apologizing, even though I told her to can it.

I smiled. “I know. He came over to the house night before last.”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “What on earth did you do? What did he say? What did he want? Did you throw him out on his ass?”

Good old Harlow, she loved to dish and this time, I was happy to pile it on for her. “I guess his movie deal fell through and Zia Danes dumped him. He came back all nice and penitent and begging for another chance.”

She stiffened. “Oh, Em, you didn’t—”

“Of course I didn’t! What do you take me for? I told him that Joe was my boyfriend, and he rushed out the door, begging me not to make up my mind yet. He’s going to have to accept that there’s not a chance in hell that I’d ever take him back.”

Harl shook her head. “He realizes what he’s lost and now he’s trying to get it back. Do you think you can ever be friends again? Would you want to?”

I thought about her question for a moment. “You know, I honestly believe that we’d make good friends, if he can just accept that I’ve moved on. Things just weren’t right for us to be lovers, but everything worked out for the best. At least for me,” I added, grinning. “I think his ego’s stung by the fact that I found somebody else, more than him really wanting me back.”

“Give him a little time. Once he sees you with Joe… I think he’ll understand. Speaking of Joe, have you told him about this?”

Tell Joe? Was she kidding? I flashed her a skeptical look over my sandwich. “Um, somehow I don’t believe that he will appreciate this situation in the way that you do.”

Harl shrugged. “Maybe not, but he has to know. Joe won’t trust you if you don’t tell him about Andrew’s visit.”

Cripes. She was right. I’d given her the same advice when she’d found out she was pregnant, and was afraid to tell her husband. But man, oh man, I didn’t relish the conversation that I knew would emerge from my revelation. Joe thought Andrew was scum. With a sigh, I promised that I’d talk to him as soon as possible. “Now that that’s over, let me tell you about the adventure Murray and I had last night…” And I was off and running, with Harl hanging on every word.

 

 

AFTER AN EARLY dinner, Kip settled himself at the computer while Miranda went out for a bike ride. I picked up the remote, then stopped as the phone rang. It was Sly. Kip jerked around as I firmly informed the little con artist that my son would not be allowed to see him until school started. Glaring at me, Kip stomped upstairs to his room, where I heard him banging his stuff around. Tough. He had to learn how to accept the consequences of his actions.

The phone rang again before I could sit down. This time it was Murray. “Hey chick! Got some news you might want to hear. Yet another chapter in the Klakatat Monster saga.”

Oh boy, just what I needed. “What’s going down now?”

“I just got a call from Jimmy. He was out in the valley this evening, talking to the boys, when Cathy showed up with George. They were nosing around to see who—if anybody—knew anything about the Klakatat Monster. I guess George went into a swoon and started shouting about how he could sense some sort of psychic turbulence and that there would be another murder.”

“Oh jeez.” That sounded about right. “So what happened?”

She cleared her throat. “Clyde messed up George something awful. Gave him a black eye. I guess he got fed up with their yakking and told them to leave. When George got cocky, Clyde hit him. Jimmy heard Cathy scream and intervened. He managed to give the pair time to get out of sight; guess he didn’t want any more bloodshed after what happened to Scar. But Clyde warned Jimmy that if he caught those two out there again, there would be hell to pay.”

What a mess. This monster business was certainly riling up a lot of people. Not only that, but Cathy and George had just gone and managed to destroy any chance we had of getting information from the bikers out there. Nobody would be willing to talk to us now. And to top it off, everybody seemed to be ignoring the fact that a man had died. A flesh-and-blood man, not just some “monster victim.”

“Did they leave? Cathy and George, I mean.”

I heard the sound of a soda opening. Murray took a sip and then said, “I suppose. Don’t really know. I wish that I could go out there and ask around in my capacity as a detective, but thanks to Coughlan closing the case, I can’t rely on my badge for this one. Word would get back to him and I’d be sacked.”

After we chatted a little more, I meandered into the kitchen and brewed myself a cup of lemon-lime tea. Had George really sensed another murder in the offing? I hoped not, but couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling that he might actually have keyed in on something. I wandered back into the living room, sipping my tea, and stared at the étagère. The crystal ball was sitting front and center, shining softly in the lamplight.

Maybe if George had picked up on something, I could, too? I set my tea on the desk and unlocked the cabinet. As I withdrew the heavy sphere, my intuition kept telling me, “don’t get involved, don’t get involved” but the fact remained that I was involved, and growing more curious by the moment. Scar had been murdered, that was one thing that George and I agreed on. And I wanted to expose who did it; not only to soothe my own curiosity, but to make things right.

I crossed my legs and rested the ball on my lap, more than a little nervous considering what had happened the last time “ol’ Crystal” here had hooked me up to the astral realm. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight,” I told the sphere. “I am not a semi-conductor for juice from the other side. Got it?”

The orb remained silent. I took that as a “yes.”

“Okay then, let’s rock ‘n roll.”

As I tuned in, a sweeping sensation raced through me. I let myself go with the flow as my astral body shot out of my material form. Woohoo—could that baby make me fly! When it felt like I’d come to rest, I warily opened my inner sight and glanced around. Okay… misty clouds, no real landscape. Yep, I was on the astral plane. What next?

Nothing big and nasty emerged from the fog to take a bite out of me, but it only took me a moment to figure out that I hadn’t the faintest idea of where I was or what I was doing there. As I prepared to break trance and head back to my body, the mist quivered and a strange light began to glow, shooting lightning bolts across the tops of the vaporous clouds.

Something was on the way in. I turned to hightail it back to my body as a wave of energy knocked me forward. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw the same skull I’d seen the night before, but now it was huge, hovering over my head. I scrambled to my feet as it slowly turned, searching my energy. As the eyes zeroed in on me, a dark shadow crept from behind the skull, standing in front of it in a protective stance, arms raised to keep me from passing.

That was fine by me. Yessiree! Not getting any closer!

“You were in the valley.” A voice echoed through the mists from the shade.

“I—I…” Stammering, I looked around wildly, wondering if this thing was going to try to make me its lunch.

“There is an intruder in the valley. Make him leave.”

Huh? An intruder? Make him leave? Make who leave?

“Help us protect the lore-keeper. Help us protect our secrets.” And then the shadow vanished and I knew, in my very core, that it had been one of the Warriors of the Mountain. As the skull slowly faded back into the mists, I found myself catapulted back into my body. I fell back against the cushions, shivering.

“Holy hell, that tears it.”

The Warriors of the Mountain knew how to find me. They must have tracked my energy signature. And, apparently, they had decided I was just the person to help them protect their lore-keeper, whoever that might be. Woo hoo—Emerald O’Brien, bodyguard for the denizens of the netherworld! Oh yeah, that would look good on my résumé. More confused than ever, I replaced the crystal ball in the étagère and stared at the silent television. I had the queasy feeling that I’d soon find the answers to my questions, and more.

I just hoped I didn’t end up finding them the hard way.