Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel) (28 page)

“Yeah, we are. Since she was a regular here, you don’t have any insights, do you? She hang out with anybody that seems suspicious? Look worried last time she was in here?” I pulled out my notebook.

Marion leaned back in her chair. “Violet’s been coming in on a regular basis for . . . oh . . . a year give or take a few weeks. Of course, we didn’t see her during the time the café was being rebuilt, but once we reopened our doors, she was here again. Sometimes she comes in with her coworkers, other times she’s with some guy. He’s a dark type, as in he feels shadowy. Fae, tall, blond, taciturn. Doesn’t talk much except to her. And . . . once in a while I’ll see her with an odd person. Almost always Supes. She doesn’t hang with FBHs, it seems.”

The blond Fae was probably her boyfriend—Tanne Baum. But the others? “Do they seem like they’re on a date? When she comes in with the people you don’t recognize.”

Marion shrugged. “Hard to tell. Maybe. I don’t really pay that much attention to the comings and goings of my customers. Okay, then, I’d better get your orders in.” She stood as I jotted down the information.

After she headed to the kitchen, I glanced at Camille. “We have to break her password. Remember? Her letter from Supernatural Matchups? And we need to talk to that boyfriend of hers.”

Camille nodded. “How are we going to break into her account? You’re handy with a keyboard but let’s face it, you aren’t a hacker.”

“No, but we know someone who is.” I grinned. “Tim is mighty handy.” Tim Winthrop was a friend of ours. At one time he’d been a female impersonator while he put himself through college. Now, with his degree in computer science, he’d opened his own consulting business. He also ran a lingerie shop, though he hired someone to work there. We’d been at his wedding, and his husband, Jason, was a mechanic and he was the one working on my Jeep.

Camille snickered. “Tim is a whirlwind with a computer. Give him a call while I run to the bathroom.”

As she left the table, I pulled out my cell phone and punched in Tim’s number. He came on the line within two rings. “Hey, Tim. Got a favor to ask. Need you to hack an account. We’re following up on a missing persons case and need to get into her account on Supernatural Matchups.”

Tim laughed. “I just love how you assume I’ll happily dive into your illegal investigations.”

“Well . . .” I paused, not knowing how to respond. “Um, will you do it? I’ll have Hanna make you cookies.”

A snort, “How can I resist such a desperate ploy? Okay, but they’d better be peanut butter chocolate chip, and I’d better see more than just a couple dozen.”

“Deal. I’ll call you with the info when I get home. And, thanks.” I hung up before realizing I hadn’t even asked him how he was. But when Tim found out what was going down, he’d understand.

Camille returned as Marion brought over our drinks. She set them in front of us. “Your food will be along shortly, girls.” Then she was off again to welcome a large group of werewolves who had just entered the café.

“Tim said sure, for cookies. I need that letter to give him the info.”

“I think it’s still in the car, to be honest. What else do we have to do today?” She took a long drink of her latte. “I need this. Caffeine.”

I stared at the page, doodling a stick man in the corner. “We still haven’t told Menolly about our cousins. We need to do that tonight. We should ask Vanzir if Carter found out anything about the cigarette butt or footprint casts we found at Interlaken Park.”

Camille nodded. “Doesn’t it seem weird to sit here talking about all this crap? Father’s missing, the Keraastar Knights are vulnerable and scattered, and Elqaneve is trashed. Sharah’s on her way home to become a queen . . . Chase has a baby and no one to help him with her. I know they’ll provide a nanny and wet nurse but . . .”

I glanced up at her. “Speaking of Chase, what do you think about asking him if he wants to stay with us until everything gets sorted out? We could put him in the parlor. Hanna will be there to oversee meals and what’s one more mouth at our house? If he has a nanny and wet nurse, Hanna wouldn’t need to bother with the baby. We’d just need to make sure Maggie can’t get in there.”

Camille cocked her head. “I dunno . . . we’ve got a full house as it is. And do we really want him there when we’re always under Shadow Wing’s bulls-eye?”

She made a good point, but . . . “He’s going to be a target anyway, since he’s known to be Sharah’s lover and has her child. In fact, who’s to say some zealot elf with a grudge toward Windwalkers won’t try to kill the child? I promised Sharah I’d look after him.”

After a moment, Camille shrugged. “I’m fine with it. I’m sure Menolly will be too. Are you sure Shade will be okay?”

“You mean because Chase used to be my lover? I doubt if Shade has any worries in that department.” And truth was, he didn’t need to. At least for me, Shade was twice the lover Chase had been.

“Okay then. So we ask Chase to move in. After we eat breakfast, let’s drop by Carter’s to ask if he’s had any luck with the cigarette and the footprint casts. And then, let’s start hunting down the dreglins. We’ll need help. I wonder if Ivana knows anything about them.”

“Oh, you
have
to be kidding. Not
her
again, especially after what we found out about her when we were hunting down Gulakah.” I shuddered. Ivana Krask—the Maiden of Karask—gave me the creeps.

Ivana was one of the Elder Fae. They were all entities beyond the realm of mortals, and they played so far out of social niceties that it was amazing they even tried to coexist with humankind. When you had dealings with them, you had to watch every word, every phrase, because it was easy to seal yourself into a deal that was most definitely not in your favor. They weren’t always evil, though some like Jenny Greenteeth, the Black Annis, and Yannie Fin Diver, were definitely not on the best-behaved list. Mostly they were chaotic, and they played outside of human rules.

Camille shook her head. “Let’s face it, Ivana is our best touchstone for finding out what we need to about the dreglins.”

“And you really think she’s going to give us information on other Elder Fae?” I still didn’t buy it, but then again, I didn’t like Ivana. “Fine, you call her. I don’t want any more to do with her or her garden of ghosts than I have to.”

Camille dialed her number as Marion set our food in front of us. It still amazed me that one of the Elder Fae had a cell phone. But then, the world didn’t run on fairytales, and reality was much stranger than fiction could ever purport to be. A few seconds later, she glanced at me and pointed at her phone.

“Yes, Ivana? . . . Yes, it’s the Witch Girl . . . Um hm. That’s right. Listen, we were wondering if you would meet us. We have a deal to propose.”

Ivana did nothing without recompense. We just had to watch what we offered her, because if there’s one thing the Elder Fae could do, it was twist the meaning of words. Especially when there was a deal involved.

“Yes, we can. We’ll see you there in an hour.” Camille hung up. “I agreed we’d meet her in the park in an hour.”

I glanced outside as I tore off a piece of the cinnamon roll. It was so good, I thought I’d just have to buy a second for the road. “It’s pouring rain.”

“I’m not going to melt and neither are you. Now, let me call Carter and see if he’s going to be home.” She stabbed one of her sausage links and ate it down before she picked up her phone again. A few minutes later, we were set to meet with Carter at around 4:00
P.M..
We finished our meal and I ordered a second cinnamon roll to go, then we left a good-sized tip and headed out to the car.

“We still have half an hour before we need to meet Ivana. Can we stop by Jason’s and see if he’s done with my Jeep?” I was getting really tired of relying on others for my rides.

“Sure thing.” She scooted out of the parking spot and we were off.

Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot at Jason’s garage. We headed into the office and he was there, poring through some parts catalogue. Jason was a fine-looking man, dark and bald, his skin the color of coffee. He and Tim had been together for a number of years now, and he treated Tim’s little girl like his own. She was somewhere around six or seven now, and while Tim’s ex-wife still had issues with him, she never took it out on his relationship with his daughter. He got her every weekend, and did his best to be a good father.

Jason smiled when he saw us come in, waving. He’d finally come to accept Tim’s involvement in the Supe Community, and even accepted that Tim’s best friend was now a vampire. Erin Matthews—Menolly’s “daughter.” In fact, we’d met Tim through Erin, when she still owned the Scarlet Harlot and both he and Camille had shopped there.

“Hey girls, what’s shaking?” Jason turned around and grabbed a set of keys off the pegboard behind him, tossing them to me. “Don’t even ask. Your baby’s ready.”

I laughed. “You’re the best! What was wrong with her?”

“Do you really want to know, or do you just want the bill and the lifetime guarantee?” He snickered, pulling out his ledger.

I laughed. “Got me there. Okay, I trust you. How much do I owe you?” I pulled out my wallet and took out my credit card.

He grimaced. “It wasn’t cheap, girl. I had to order a lot of parts. Whatever the hell you did to it, I’d like to know. Or maybe not. Anyway, bill comes to nine-hundred fifty-eight dollars and thirty-nine cents. And that’s
with
your friends and family discount.”

I coughed, but handed over the credit card. Jason was a good guy, and he didn’t stiff anybody. Which is why he had repeat clientele, and a damned fine reputation. As he rung up the service, I turned to Camille.

“I’ll take my Jeep and follow you. I’ve missed her.”

“I had that mess on the side of it detailed, girl.” Jason gave me a smile. “You’ve had that bad cover-up job on there too long.”

I gaped at him. “But that had to cost . . .”

“Shut your mouth, sugar.” He winked. “I will not let one of my friends carry around the memory of a hate crime.”

Back in February, shortly before Iris’s wedding, my car had been the victim of a hate-filled graffiti artist who had tagged it with,
“Go home, Faerie Sluts!”
in red paint. I’d covered it up the best I could with spray paint but it never had looked right. Now, the door matched the rest of the paint job—a turquoise blue.

I hopped over the counter, surprising Jason, and gave him a quick hug. He froze at first, then hesitantly returned the embrace.

“Damn girl, you are strong. I can feel your muscles through that jacket.” He grinned at me then.

“You’re pretty fine, yourself. Those are some big guns you have there.” Jason was built like a body builder and I had no doubt his biceps were
ooo-baby
worthy. “You work out a lot?”

He nodded. “I do. In fact, I teach Thai boxing. You interested in learning?”

I cocked my head to the side. I’d always wanted to take up one of the Earthside martial arts classes. “How much time is required? If I’m out on a case, or have to be in Otherworld, am I going to get kicked out for not showing up? I don’t want to commit to something that I might have to flake out on.”

He pursed his lips, smiling. “We could schedule private lessons. Then we can reschedule as needed. When you have the time, it would be best to go for two classes a week, plus keeping up with your regular workouts.”

I slid my credit card back in the holder. “Sounds good. I’ll give you a call later tonight or tomorrow to talk some more. Thanks, Jason. Tim has himself a good man.”

“I know, love. I know.” And then he shooed us out. “I have work to do. And I know you do, too. Off with you now.”

As we left the shop, I glanced back. “I hope to hell he and Tim weather knowing us. I’d hate it if—”

“Don’t say a word. Don’t even think it. They will be all right because we need them to be okay. I can’t handle seeing another friend hurt. Not now. Especially not with Father missing.”

As I climbed in my Jeep and started her up, enjoying the purr of her motor, the rain turned to hail, the pea-sized ice balls bouncing off the hood and windshield, covering the pavement. I followed Camille out onto the road, the silver of the sky glimmered like light shifting onto layers of crinkled foil.

We headed to the park to meet Ivana, and all the way there, I couldn’t stop thinking about Father. Had he managed to get out? Was he searching for us? And if he had, surely he would have contacted us by now—or contacted Trenyth.

Was he trapped, unable to escape? Would he die, starving to death, while rescue workers frantically tried to dig out those who lived through the carnage? Or was he already dead and buried, at the bottom of a heap of rubble?

I tried to keep my focus on the road, to shove the thoughts out of my mind. Worrying wouldn’t speed up finding him. Worrying wouldn’t do anything but interfere with what we were supposed to be focusing on.

Our father was a guardsman most of his life. He had been fully prepared to give his life in the line of his work. When he’d become Ambassador, even for the short time it had lasted, he had been prepared to give his life in service to Queen Tanaquar. And now, as head of the OIA, Otherworld Division, there was the chance he’d be killed. He’d known the risks, and he’d taken them.

Just like we knew the risks when we joined up.