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“What are you up to, Abbie?” Callum asked, not at all deterred by her attempt to steer the conversation toward a safer topic.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He was silent another moment before saying, “Your brother left here with Constable Denby. Why?”
“How would I know?” Abbie rolled her eyes at Robert, who shook his head in warning. No wonder Callum had called. Had the date offer simply been a means of getting information about her brother and Ducky’s activities? She hoped not. “Where are Ducky and Bran headed?”
“To a home near Riverhead Grammar. On a tip about the Chan murder case. You, your brother, Denby, and Chan all did your secondary education at that school, correct?”
“Yes,” she said. This was a small village. Bran must have convinced Ducky to help him, and better and quicker than she’d expected. Yay! Unfortunately, her conversation with Callum was going as badly as all of their other talks. Were they doomed to never date?
“Abbie,” he said, “DI Turner already considers Constable Chan a person of interest in this murder. I don’t want to give her any reason to look closer than necessary at my constables. I’d like your assurance that your group will keep your noses out of this case.”
Her back went up that the police considered Judith a Person of Interest. She took a deep breath to remain calm. “I’ll see Judith soon,” she said. “I’ll pass along your concern.”
“Is that a, ‘No, you will not stay out of this case’?” he asked in a disappointed tone.
“We’re not looking into the murder,” she replied honestly. “But I did promise Judith that I’d help her locate her gran.”
“Oh, all right,” Callum said, sounding relieved. “I’ve an interest in finding Constable Chan’s gran, too. The old lady once gave me a lead to finding a Steinway that’s a dream to play. She has the kindest heart. I want her found and her name cleared of all suspicion.”
Abbie was glad to hear that note of caring back in his tone. He’d assisted her last autumn by recording a tune on his piano. Probably using the Steinway. That recording had helped them enormously.
“But be careful,” Callum continued, sounding a note of caution. “Turner doesn’t respond well to interference.”
She took his warning to heart, but then what was she to do with Nica’s clue? She cringed from contacting Turner. Maybe Callum could help bridge the divide and even earn himself some cred if he helped Turner solve her case.
“I visited the Silk Quilt Den today,” she told him, glancing across the street to where Poppy and Mrs. Moore chatted as they stared through the window at her parked across the street. They were having an animated conversation. “Nica came across something interesting in a bin where they keep spare fabric for quilt making.”
Once she passed on the clue, Callum promised to share it with Turner, but then warned her again to be careful about interfering in the DI’s case.
“I won’t,” Abbie promised. “All I’m planning to do is look into Granny Chan’s past shortly after she arrived in England. When she lived in old Chinatown in London.”
“Why then?” he asked.
“I recall seeing an old photo of her with a man from that time period. I can’t recall when or where I saw it.” Mostly true. “The two seemed quite close. I hoped Judith could speak to relatives and family friends to find out who he might be. In case Granny Chan contacted him at his current location or gone there for a visit.”
“A stretch,” Callum said. “But I’ll pass on your suggestion. In case it proves useful.”
“Good,” she said. “If I find anything, I’ll let you know. Talk later. Bye.” She hung up.
“Was that wise?” Robert asked. “Telling him about our plans?”
“We’ll soon find out,” she replied. Once she’d merged into traffic, her mirror showed Nica looking out her window, her expression solemn. She missed the child’s earlier engagement.
Seeking a way to draw Nica out, Abbie realized that while she’d complimented Jimi on tying his shoes properly, she hadn’t said a word of praise about Nica’s discovery.
“By the way, Nica,” she said now, wanting to rectify that slip, “brilliant job matching the quilt fabric.” She gave her a thumbs-up.
Nica nodded and returned to ruminating out the window. This time, though, a small smile curved her lips up.
A truly heartwarming sight.
“Anyone hungry?” Abbie asked, her chest warm with contentment.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Jimi replied with enthusiasm.
“Me, too,” Nica said.
That latter response was the best news Abbie had received all day. Nica wanted to eat!
“Then let’s pick up groceries for lunch and take it over to Judith’s place. I’m curious to see if she’s found any clues.”
Abbie stopped to pick up a scattering of vegetables, a roast chicken, and her weekly pay from the grocers that supplemented her earnings as an EMT. The additional pounds helped to defray the kids’ school uniform costs. Their last set was already looking too tight. Raising children was expensive.
She texted Judith to say they were on their way to her place with lunch.
Though Abbie didn’t have Comet to lead the way this time, she remembered the route and nothing magical misdirected their course.
On arrival, she parked Rosie beside Yousef’s vehicle. Jimi raced inside. Judith must have left the door unlocked and dropped the magical barriers, knowing they were on their way. Nica ran in after her brother. Robert was right on their heels.
Abbie gathered up her bag of groceries but stopped to chat with Shahay before going in. The musical fae was now permanently stuck as Yousef’s nitro yellow Supra. Abbie laid her right hand on the bonnet, using her cord to her speak to the car. “How are you, Shahay?”
“Well, Abbie,” the fae replied, playing a melancholic note of greeting. “Any sign of Granny Chan yet?”
“No, but I’ve an idea where to turn our attention next.”
“You always do,” Shahay replied, espousing more confidence in her than Abbie held. Especially after Poppy poured cold water all over her most recent lead about Granny Chan’s interest in her past.
To change the subject, Abbie asked, “How’s Yousef treating you?”
He was a cat-shifter who feared magic, and this car was fae magic. She’d wondered how the relationship would progress.
“He hasn’t attempted to sell me recently,” Shahay replied with a smile in her voice that suggested she held no grudge against him for doing so before. “He also has a caring touch when he changes my oil or checks my engines. Best of all, he now talks to me about what’s troubling him. Makes me feel as if he sees me as an equal.”
“Good to hear,” Abbie said, remembering seeing his searing regret the last time this beautiful musical fae changed into this car form. The act had been a monumental sacrifice on Shahay’s part. Her action had made a lasting impression on all of them, especially on Yousef.
Seeing the pain on his face, Abbie suspected that, at that moment, Yousef realized how deeply he cared for this doomed fae.
A little heartsore for both Shahay trapped in her car form and the cat-shifter who might be hopelessly in love with her, Abbie wished Shahay all the best and headed inside.
Her kids’ chatter came from the back, toward the kitchen. She closed the front door and called out, “Judith, Yousef? We’re here.”
Comet whipped down the stairs and straight toward her.
Abbie held out her free hand to halt the broom from slamming into her.
On first contact, Comet said, “You’ll never believe what we’ve found.”
Before Abbie could ask, What? Comet flew off back up the stairs, taking Abbie with her. Finding herself several feet above the ground, Abbie yelped in surprise and dropped her paper bag. It smashed open on impact, spilling groceries onto the carpeted floor below.
She had to stop clutching this broom. How could she not have learned that lesson from the last time she gripped Comet outside this house’s front door?
Comet whipped her up another flight of stairs, around a corridor, and into a bedroom. Abbie opened her mouth to shout, “Look out,” when the broom zoomed into a hearth opening and up the chimney.
She shut her eyes, expecting to get squished and scraped. When neither of those things happened, she tentatively opened one eye. Far below from where she now hovered—in mid-air—stretched out a gigantic rectangular chamber.
The room had a central open space covered by an enormous light-colored oriental carpet that held polished side tables, wooden chairs, paper screen dividers, golden statues, and an exquisite tall vase. Tall wooden bookshelves bracketed the walls covered in bright red wallpaper. She had arrived in an opulent traditional Chinese room, so different from the rest of the British witchy home.
The walls had tapestries and shelves packed with volumes. No attached ladders. But then a witch probably wouldn’t need to climb to fetch a book. In this house, if Granny Chan said which book she required, it would probably fly into her hand.
On the longer sides of this rectangular chamber, there were semi-enclosed side rooms, three on each side, a mirror to each other. The symmetry was intriguing and pleasing to the eye. Likely aligned along Feng Shui south-north sightlines.
While the view below was breathtaking, high above—at least eight feet over Abbie’s head—an ornamental ceiling painted in gold and blue was a wonderful complement to the decorations below. The ceiling glowed, gently lighting the enormous room. The layout and decor gave this space an exotic feel.
Aside from the chamber’s visual magnificence, Abbie sensed its immense magical composition. Energy vibrated from every inch, leaving her covered in goosebumps. This room was also far larger than anything this house should be able to house.
“Where are we?” Abbie whispered in awe.
“In Granny Chan’s study,” Comet said in a matching tone of wonder. “Isn’t it grand?”
“Yes,” Abbie breathed, but then turned to the broom in surprise. She understood why this room left her speechless. Why was the broom so impressed? “You’ve not been here before?”
“First time.”
“What do you mean?” Abbie asked. “You’re Granny Chan’s broom. Why wouldn’t she have brought you in here?”
“I don’t belong to her,” Comet said in a sad voice. “She created me a few days ago as a gift for her granddaughter, who refused to accept me. That’s why they fought. Over me.”
Comet grew quiet as Abbie digested this startling news and then the broom added, “I’m worried Granny Chan is missing because of me.”
“Why do you say that?” Abbie asked.
“If I had been here when her spell went wrong, maybe I could have saved her.”
Before Abbie could respond to that concern, Judith and Yousef came out of a side room below. The constable was holding a framed photo.
“Comet,” Abbie said gently. “Granny Chan sent you to guide me to her home. It was her choice to cast her spell while she was alone. Now, let’s go down and speak to Judith. I have a few questions for her.”
Comet dropped straight down, eliciting an involuntary shriek from Abbie before the broom halted with Abbie’s feet hovering a foot above the floor. This broom needed some flying lessons while transporting humans.
“Oh, good,” Judith said, “you’re here.”
Abbie released her hold on the broom and dropped to the floor with a semi-dignified thump. She resisted the urge to kiss the pretty carpet.
“As-salaam ‘alaykum, Abbie,” Yousef said, his right hand covering his heart in a warm greeting. “Welcome to Aladdin’s cave.”
With a grin, Abbie curtsied and replied, “Va-alaikum As-salaam.”
He’d taught her how to respond to his Arabic greeting with a phrase meaning, Peace be unto you, too. She’d been practicing saying it for weeks so she could get it right.
“Good pronunciation,” Yousef said with approval.
“Timely arrival.” Judith held out the photo she carried as if to say enough chit-chat. “Look what we found.”
Abbie took the frame. It was of Judith and herself when they were in sixth form. We look like BFFs.
Judith tapped Abbie’s smiling face in the photo. “My gran primed her spell to track your whereabouts to this photograph. This should be in her bedroom, but I couldn’t locate it there. Still, I sensed its presence, and that trail led us in here.”
“You didn’t know about this room?” Abbie asked, giving the photo back to Judith.
“No,” Judith said, sounding disappointed. “Gran never mentioned it.”
“To me, either,” Comet said.
Judith gave the broom a quick, frowning side glance and then dropped the frame on a small, round wooden table. She curled a finger at Abbie twice, indicating she should follow.
Abbie did as Judith requested but said, “I need to let the kids and Robert know I’m here.”
She was about to mind-speak to them using her cord when Judith turned to the broom. “Comet, go tell them.”
“Done.” The broom zoomed up and away.
“The broom responds well to you,” Abbie said.
“Better than Shahay does to me,” Yousef said. “Whenever I give her an order, I invariably end up sitting quietly for several moments with no discernable car movement before I remember Shahay doesn’t take well to orders.”
He rolled his eyes at Abbie, who chuckled consolingly.
From a doorway to their left, Judith gave them a cross look for dawdling. “Come on.”
“Comet seems to feel that you dislike her,” Abbie said as she hurriedly followed her friend into a small side room filled with family memorabilia.
“She’s a three-day-old creation,” Judith replied, shrugging dismissively. “Her opinions are immaterial.”
The comment suggested that Judith might be as dense about her broom’s needs as Yousef seemed to be about Shahay’s expectations.
“I like Comet,” Yousef said, last to enter.
“Really?” Abbie gave him a surprised glance. “Why?”
He studied the room, walking around. “She wants to help and hasn’t shown evil intent.”
“You obviously haven’t flown on her.” Abbie grinned to show she was joshing.
Judith paused before a wall of photos. “She’s a broom.”
“One your grandmother created for you,” Abbie said.
“Sweet,” Yousef said, sounding impressed.
“Not sweet,” Judith snapped. “I didn’t ask for one.”
At Abbie’s raised eyebrow, her friend shrugged. “My Taoist colleagues would laugh me out of their school if I took up with a magical broom. Gran was aware of that and still, she gifted me with it. She refuses to accept the path I’ve chosen.” In a softer, gentler voice, she added, “That’s what upset us before she vanished, not a neighborly squabble.”
“Is that why you rejected your gran’s gift?” Abbie asked. “Accepting the broom would embarrass you before your Taoist peers?”
“It’s difficult to be thought of as different,” Yousef said in a sympathetic tone. “Especially when you want to belong.”
Judith studied a wall of photos in silence. Finally, she said, “There isn’t one school of belief in Taoism. There are many paths I could walk.” She met Abbie’s questioning gaze. “None of them include a western magical broom.”
“At school, you charted your own path,” Abbie said to Judith. “That’s what I loved best about you.” She winked at her. “With you, life was never a bore.”
Instead of lightening her mood, Judith’s frown grew darker. She gestured toward the photo wall. “This is an ancestral altar. See that?” She pointed to an empty spot high up and on the right where a nail marked a missing photo. “That might be the photo that was burned on the kitchen counter.”
“Could that have been of your gran when she was younger?” Abbie asked, accepting the change of topic.
“From 1959?” Yousef asked. “The year Talin said Disney released Sleeping Beauty?”
“In an ancestral altar,” Judith said, “she would have had depictions of our various relatives and even friends that had passed away whom she could call on for help. Not a selfie.” She pulled up a small wooden stool and climbed until she stood directly across from the empty spot on the wall of ancestral photos. “There is a way to find out for sure.”
Judith brought her hands up in a gesture of prayer and then moved her palms apart across that space. As she did, a band of light wavered between her hands. She then turned her palms toward the wall and the sheet of light shifted to span the empty spot on the wall.
She spoke in what Abbie assumed was Mandarin. While the words were incomprehensible to Abbie, the light magic responded as if Judith crooned it a lullaby. It weaved and danced and then changed colors. Soon, a frame formed, and then an image appeared.
“That’s Granny Chan in her twenties,” Judith said, her breath hitching. “I don’t know who that is with her. I don’t recognize him, but I suppose he could be family.”
“That isn’t cousinly fondness they’re sharing,” Yousef said. “More like lovers’ glances.”
“He’s not my grandfather.” Judith shook her head in denial at that suggestion.
Abbie and Yousef shared a knowing glance behind Judith’s back.
Abbie stood on her toes to get a better look. “I’ve seen him before. Klaus showed me this scene last night before Figg showed up. Your gran was walking with him down a street holding his hand.” This was the lead she’d given to Callum.
Judith clapped her hands once, releasing the magic, and then stepped off the stool to face Abbie. “Where were they?”
“In old Chinatown in London. She had on a calf-length flared dress. He wore a suit with a skinny tie and slicked-back black hair. She looked to be in her twenties.”
“I don’t know him, but then I didn’t know about this room either.” Judith sounded sad.
Abbie put her arm around her shoulders in sympathy. “I mentioned to Callum that DI Turner should look into Granny Chan’s past for leads into where she might be now.”
“You believe if we identify where this fellow is now,” Yousef said, “we might find her?”
“Maybe,” Abbie replied. It sounded far-fetched, said aloud. “Let’s talk about it over lunch. I’m starving.”
Judith showed Abbie an easier way to return to the bedroom instead of going through the chimney. A wall slid aside, granting egress.
“How did you discover there was even a room behind this wall?” Abbie asked.
“That chamber isn’t behind this wall,” Judith said. “We go through a portal to reach it.”
“What does that mean?” Yousef asked. He poked the hearth mantle with a finger. The wall didn’t budge.
“That room isn’t inside this house,” Judith said as if that explained it all.
It didn’t, but Klaus wasn’t an ordinary book either. Could he, too, be a portal to another plane of existence where his stories endured in perpetuity?