| |
“If Figg’s master is upset that you ruined the soybean deal,” Judith said to Abbie, “he must have wanted to get his hands on one of those magical beans.”
“Shahay said he had feelings for Layla,” Abbie mused. “Could Harry have promised a soybean to the immortal but then given it to Yousef’s sister instead?”
Judith nodded, smiling with glee. “Harry short-changed the immortal! And then, after Layla died, He planned to tell you about the deal. That could be why the villain sent Figg to kill him. Then Shahay stripped the magic from the remaining soybeans.”
“Soybeans broken,” Figg said, confirming their assumptions. He covered his right eye with his paw. “Master cross.”
“And he punished you?” Abbie asked, appalled, her humor vanishing. “I can see him blaming me for the beans’ magic being stripped. Why hurt you?”
“Likely because Figg didn’t kill you when he had the chance,” Judith said. “Psychopaths lack sympathy or loyalty to those who serve them.” She petted the dog, her first sign that she cared what happened to this pup. Though Figg allowed the caress this time, he still looked startled that someone favored him. Poor pup. “The immortal fashioned the glamor so no one would notice his cruelty,” Judith murmured with sadness.
Comet, who’d been following this conversation, slid around the room. When she arrived behind Judith, she used her bristles furtively to pet Figg’s behind.
Abbie observed Comet’s action with surprise and then her gaze roved over to Judith, who hadn’t noticed the broom’s approach or her mirroring of Judith’s action. Curious connection between these two. Had Comet picked up on Judith’s softening emotions and reflected it as she had Robert’s stance? Or was there a more intimate connection between witch and broom that elicited this petting of Figg? Her Grimm instincts suggested the latter.
Slumped over the dog, Jimi yawned. The sight melted Abbie’s heart. A check of her mantle clock said it was well past his bedtime, but he was staunchly refusing to abandon his friend. Nica had crawled under the covers of Abbie’s bed and was already asleep. They’d been chatting for too long. She reached for Jimi, but Robert waved her away.
“Time for bed, little man,” he said, easily lifting him.
“Figg,” Jimi said in protest.
“We’ll not decide until morning,” Abbie promised him. She met Robert’s gaze and whispered, “On my bed, please. I’d like them close tonight, in case of further trouble.”
He moved the sheets aside without touching them before laying Jimi beside his sister.
Abbie marveled again at how Robert’s powers at handling earthly objects were growing. Last summer, he couldn’t even shake Judith’s hand.
The three adults then gathered, pulling up chairs around Figg.
“Why did you come here, Figg?” Abbie whispered.
“Master spoke your name, and I thought of Jimi. Figg cold. Jimi warm.”
Simple animalistic logic. Abbie suspected there was more to Figg’s fondness of Jimi. Did the dog realize how safe he felt with the boy? Had he ever felt this safe before? Maybe with his first owner? The boy that his current master killed after confiscating the child’s pet. Was that what drew Figg to Jimi? If so, there was hope for their friendship yet.
“He’s been relegated to an outdoor pen,” Judith said through gritted teeth, looking furious. “It’s February and effing chilly out at night.”
Abbie agreed. Animal abuse was not okay. Jaan var. That was what Kali had labeled the immortal. Abbie had looked up the word. Animal. She preferred, beast. Trouble was, none of them could interfere with how the immortal treated Figg. They didn’t know where the dog lived or the identity of his master. Even if they did, stepping in to help the dog might get them all killed. They couldn’t afford to get drawn into this fight. It was a distraction from the main issue. Finding Granny Chan.
“Figg, what did your master say when he mention my name?” Abbie asked.
With Jimi gone, he shuffled around to lay his head on Judith’s lap. “Master asked a lady to stop you from leaving.”
For London? That had been her only immediate plan for leaving Chipstead. A quake started within Abbie’s spine and swept upward until her scalp tingled. If she’d been a cat, her back fur would have puffed.
If the immortal didn’t want her to go to London, canceling her trip might have been her worst move. Abbie silently swore because she’d had no choice. She couldn’t abandon Judith when her gran was in trouble.
Wait! Could that be why Granny Chan was missing? Did the immortal have something to do with the old witch’s disappearance?
“Who is this lady that your master met?” Robert asked Figg.
Not the question brimming in Abbie’s mind, but a good one.
Klaus shuffled his pages and showed them a brunette, clothed in a smart pink dress. The lady spoke to the jaan var.
The picture shifted as the immortal handed his guest a yellow silk scarf patterned with a long-bodied gold-gray dragon, half-curled and spewing fire. The material shifted into pink tones as it passed hands, now matching the woman’s dress.
“That’s a Chinese dragon, a yang symbol,” Judith spoke softly, thoughtfully. “They represent power and strength but are also elemental masters, especially over water. They’re said to reign over the seas.”
Behind Judith, Comet rose to mimic the witch’s words. One moment, the staff bent and curved until Comet formed a yin/yang sign. The next, she undulated like an ocean wave.
“Taoist sorcerers use dragon sigils to draw luck or success to their more complex spells,” Judith finished, frowning at her audience’s rapt attention behind her. She swung around. “What’re you both gawking at?”
Before she’d turned fully, the broom swept straight up to lie flat on the ceiling.
“Nothing.” Abbie met Judith’s suspicious gaze. “I wonder what he’s up to.”
She shrugged. “Who knows? What do we do about Figg?” With a glance toward where Jimi slept, she added in a low voice, “Allow the dog to stay?”
“If he does, he’ll endanger Jimi,” Robert said.
Figg whined at that comment and pulled back, but Abbie’s cord held him in place.
“Go now,” he said in protest.
His instinct to protect Jimi pleased Abbie. The dog saw staying away as his only option. Something all of them wanted, too. “Will you be safe?”
“When Master cross, he forgets me.”
“Then he might have forgotten to feed you.” Judith stood. “I’ll get you some food.”
“I’m swifter.” Robert vanished.
“If you’re returning to that Figghouse,” Judith said, “you’ll need something to keep you warm.” She grabbed the tartan blanket from the back of her chair and laid it on her lap. With her third finger, pinkie, and thumb pinched and the other two fingers extended, she gestured, muttering a spell over the material. The blanket glowed and then faded. Nodding in satisfaction, she placed the now invisible blanket over Figg. “Your master won’t notice this if you leave it in your Figghouse.”
Figg sat up and licked her cheek, tail thumping.
“Enough, down boy.” She pushed him away and used her sleeve to wipe her face, but her gentle smile said Figg’s kisses had touched her.
Robert returned with a packet of frozen, boneless chicken thigh fillets. Judith took the packet and, slitting open the plastic covering, ran her hand over the meat to warm it until it glistened, before setting it before Figg.
Tail wagging with joy, the dog wolfed down his feast.
Abbie couldn’t recall seeing him so lively. Ever. Once he’d finished eating, she said, “Figg.”
He glanced up; head tilted.
“You cannot appear this contented or your master will know something is fishy. You must act as unhappy as you normally feel. Can you do that?”
His tail instantly stilled, and he slumped to the floor and covered his head with his paws.
“Good boy,” she whispered and retracted the cord from around him. “I’ll take him outside.”
She barely finished speaking before Figg was gone, she assumed, with his warm blanket.
“Be careful,” she whispered, unsure if he could still hear her. How he entered and let this house past her wards was a mystery. Could the wards only keep people away, not animals? If so, she would have to ask her mum to help her adjust them on her parents’ return home. Though she now trusted Figg to an extent, she didn’t trust his master or what that fiend would force his dog to do on his behalf.
“Will he be all right?” Judith asked, sounding as concerned.
“He’s survived thus far, serving his murderous master,” Robert murmured. “He can use that knowledge to remain safe.”
“Now we’ve resolved the dog issue,” Abbie said, “this night’s left us with other unanswered questions.”
“Such as?” Judith asked.
“Was the immortal involved in your gran’s disappearance?”
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“If Mrs. Chan wasn’t missing,” Robert said, “Miss Grimshaw would have left by now.”
Judith swore, and then she turned to Abbie with a troubled gaze. “Does this mean you should go to London?”
“No,” Abbie said in a thoughtful tone, sitting back. “The immortal lacks morality and may be paranoid. With such dark traits, I doubt he knows how to make or hang onto loyal friends.”
“So, what?” Judith asked. “How does that help us decide if you should go to London or not?”
“That means he’s unlikely to understand how we function. We trust each other to cover for us.”
“You trust Constable Higgins to speak on your behalf to your London informant,” Robert said, nodding.
“Yes.” Besides, she wasn’t ready yet to say goodbye to her lost teammates. Not until she ensured the person by whose hands they’d died paid for that abominable crime.
“I’ll text Talin to keep an eye out for trouble from the immortal,” Judith said, her fingers at work on her mobile.
Abbie nodded and picked up the Grimm Tales. “That leaves us free to look for Granny Chan. Klaus couldn’t show us where your gran was.” At Judith’s quick look up, Abbie added, “I tried earlier. But maybe he can help us identify the woman in pink who met the immortal. Klaus, show me where the woman Figg showed us is right now.”
The book flipped open on her lap, pages rustling. When it stopped, they all leaned forward to look at the name etched in a half-circle on a store window.
“The Silk Quilt Den,” Judith read in a grim tone. “Surprise, surprise.”
“Locate her exact position,” Abbie instructed her book.
It swooped into the building and, after a few turns down a long corridor, it entered a room where a group of women sat in a circle on the floor, holding hands and chanting.
The sounds stopped abruptly and several women turned toward the doorway as if they sensed Abbie watching them.
“Closer,” Abbie said. “Which one of them met the immortal?”
The vision faded.
“Too late,” Judith said. “Oh, well, it was worth a try. Since you’re due to visit the Silk Quilt Den tomorrow, Abbie, you will now have a few pertinent questions ready to ask my grandmother’s coven members.” Straightening, she stretched and yawned. “If we’re done with tonight’s excitement, I’m turning in. This has been the longest day of my life and I’ve lived through a few marathons.”
Abbie shut Klaus and couldn’t help yawning, too. “We all have lots to do tomorrow.”
“‘Night.” Judith picked up her baton from where she’d left it, leaning by the doorway. Before leaving, she glanced back at Abbie. “Be careful tomorrow. You’ll be a Grimm stepping into a witch stronghold.”
At Abbie’s nod, Judith left.
“Wise words,” Robert said before fading, giving her the privacy to change.
As she crawled into bed later, Abbie found Comet already there, lying flat by the footboard.
Once tucked under the blankets, Abbie whispered, “Why do you hide from Judith?”
Comet slid forward. When Abbie touched the broom’s tip, Comet sparked and Abbie reflexively jerked away, clenching her fingers. Then she shook her hand and reached out again.
On contact, Comet said, “She hides from me.”
“Why?” Abbie asked.
“Same reason she fought with Granny Chan. She doesn’t care for us.”
“That’s untrue,” Abbie said. “Judith loves her gran. If you’re wrong about that, you could be wrong about how she feels about you, too.”
“She has a funny way of showing her true feelings, then,” Comet replied, with an offended sniff.
“Comet, I’d like you to go with Judith tomorrow.”
The broom withdrew from Abbie’s hold.
Discouraging.
“I would like you to show Judith the rooms Granny Chan frequented,” Abbie continued, undaunted. “If we’re to find her, we can’t afford to leave any clues unchecked. You might know of some secret places.”
No response.
“Also, it will give you a chance to test my theory,” Abbie trudged on. “While you’re with Judith, ignore what she says and instead look for signs that she loves her gran. You might even surprise yourself and notice signs of her attachment to you.”
She fell asleep waiting for Comet’s response.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, ABBIE asked Klaus again for information about Granny Chan and the woman in pink, in case anything had changed overnight. She received the same silent response as far as Granny Chan was concerned, and this time, Klaus couldn’t get past the witches’ front door. They must have strengthened their protections.
She was about to close the book when an address appeared on an open page. She recognized the location with shock, but couldn’t imagine how it could have anything to do with Granny Chan. Except, why else would Klaus share this information now?
Two years ago, late one night, Ducky had followed Judith to that address. He had then shown Bran a photo of Judith’s walk-of-shame as she left that residence early the next morning looking rumpled.
Putting away the book, Abbie joined Judith and the kids for breakfast. The sadness on Judith’s face kept Abbie from asking her friend about the touchy location.
Her beloved grandmother was missing, and she was still reeling from that. She didn’t need to be distracted with news related to her and Bran’s breakup. Still, Klaus bringing up that address was troubling and something Abbie couldn’t ignore.
After breakfast, as they put away the dishes, a honk announced Yousef’s arrival. He was here to give Judith a lift to her home. They were due to search that witch’s house today. The police had cleared out yesterday and Judith received the all-clear to move back home in the morning.
They all traipsed out to greet Yousef, and Comet swooped in through Shahay’s open car window to slide into the Supra’s backseat. Judith frowned, looking ready to toss the broom out.
“Have fun.” Abbie waved and shooed Robert and the kids into Rosie and sped out of St. Michael’s car park before Judith could suggest that the broom accompany Abbie.
On their way to the Silk Quilt Den, Abbie glanced at Nica. The young girl had picked at her breakfast of soft-boiled eggs with soldiers, her favorite meal. The child was staring out the back window. Could she be upset because Figg couldn’t stay? If so, there was no way to make up for that disappointment.
Jimi had taken Figg’s absence much better. Made Abbie wonder if the boy and dog were in silent communication. She made a mental note to talk to him about that troubling possibility.
Her mobile pinged.
Robert checked on the text for her. “It’s your brother.”
“Colin?” Had Talin arrived at his London flat already?
“No, it’s Mr. Bran,” Robert said. “He wishes to converse.”
Jimi let out a shout of joy. “Uncle Bran, Uncle Bran, Uncle Bran.”
“Can you text him about where we’re headed?” she asked. This was a test and game she often played with Robert to check on how versatile his control grew over this solid world.
He gave her a calculating glance and then accepted her challenge with a head nod. His fingers moved over the keypad while text appeared on the screen above. Though she couldn’t quite see his fingers touch keys, he was working them. Impressive.
In short order, she approached a wide-open parking spot across the street from the quilt shop, but a 1960 green MGA Roadster roared past and pulled up ahead, leaving barely enough room for her to squeeze in behind. Bran had beaten her into the parking spot ahead. Robert wasn’t the only one being tested this morning.
Bran had taught Abbie to drive, so she was a whiz at parallel parking, and she expertly slithered into the empty spot.
“Morning, Abbie-girl,” Bran said cheerfully as he exited his car. He’d bought this car from Yousef.
“What’s up?” she asked as her group exited Rosie. “If you’re looking for your boss, he’s with Judith at her home.”
“I know.” Bran picked up and tossed Jimi high into the air before catching him, to the boy’s delighted shrieks. “He gave me the scoop at breakfast. Said he might be away for a few days and asked me to fill in.”
“And?”
“I said, No.” He tucked Jimi on his hip and nodded to Robert, who tipped his top hat.
Nica came around and Abbie took her hand.
“Uncle Bran.” Jimi proudly patted his hero’s cheek.
“He’s not our uncle,” Nica muttered, staring at her feet.
Her hand began to slip out of Abbie’s hold and she tightened her grip. She was not about to give up on this child. Even if Nica wasn’t ready to accept Abbie and her family wholeheartedly, Abbie and her family had devotedly embraced both kids.
“Why can’t you fill in for Yousef?” Abbie asked her brother. “Judith needs his help.”
“He has staff to cover for him,” Bran said with a set face. “I want to help Jude.”
“That post chaise has already departed,” Robert said.
Bran flashed him a glare and then said, “I don’t care. I’m calling it back.”
“I doubt she’s ready yet, Bran,” Abbie said gently. She held up a hand when he began to argue. “You could help me instead with this case.”
“How?” Bran asked.
“It won’t be easy,” she warned, wondering how badly he wanted to make up with Judith. He’d been head over heels in love once, but a lot of time had passed since then.
“Try me,” he said.
“Would you speak to Ducky? See if the police have any leads on Granny Chan’s case?”
Bran straightened Jimi’s jacket before tickling the boy until he giggled. Then he met Abbie’s gaze and gave a nod.
Encouraged, she pulled out the slip of paper on which she’d written the address Klaus had given her. In for a penny. “Also, ask him to check on this address.”
“Consider it done.” He tucked the slip of paper into his pocket without even looking at it and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Abbie-girl.”
Wait until you read the address. That parallel parking trial will seem like child’s play in comparison.
Setting Jimi down, Bran air-kissed Nica before leaping into his car through the open window and roaring off.
“Was that wise?” Robert asked as the Roadster sped down the road in a green flash. “Constable Chan might not appreciate his interference.”
“He and Ducky used to be friends before Bran’s breakup,” Abbie explained, taking Jimi’s hand as they crossed the street. “If my brother is to make up with Judith, he needs to resolve that past pain. Besides, Ducky is unlikely to follow up on anything if I ask him, but he might respond positively to Bran.”