“It could also be copper that turns green with age.” Fiona twisted in her seat to look out the back window.
“That’s possible. It
was
ancient.” Morgan angled the rear-view mirror to look at Fiona, then asked, “Are you looking for Belladonna again?”
“No, I thought I saw someone following us. A black car.” Fiona twisted back to face front. “It was probably my imagination. I’ll feel better once we get to the shop and pick up the amulets.”
“I noticed the necklace Wendy bought from you was obsidian,” Jolene said. “It was a lot like our amulets.”
“Yes, but that’s not one of the protective amulets. That stone wasn’t infused with special energy like ours.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Jolene, in the passenger seat, glanced in the side view mirror. Was that a black car way back? Was it following them? No. Fiona was making her paranoid. She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, then held it up. “Do you think this is really what the last line of the gravestone said?”
“It fits.” Morgan slid her eyes over to Jolene. “
If
the marks you made are actually what was on there, those letters would line up.”
“It might not have anything to do with the mortar and pestle, though,” Fiona said. “Maybe he really was talking about Lila-Mae’s eyes.”
“The prettiest green?” Jolene tapped the paper with the eraser end of her pencil. “It could be, but that brings us back to our original assumption that the whole poem was about him and Lila-Mae, and when we assumed that before, we were told we made a grave mistake.”
“Plus those clues led us to dead ends,” Celeste added.
“Well, I don’t know. A green mortar and pestle is kind of odd, but green eyes are not,” Fiona said.
Something niggled in Jolene’s memory. Could it be that the last line really was about Lila-Mae’s eyes? It made more sense, but she knew it couldn’t be right. She sat back into the seat while the gears in her brain ground slowly, and then she remembered why it couldn’t be about her eyes. She sat up excitedly—maybe her memory skills
were
coming back. “I remember on one of our other visits, Finch said Lila-Mae had eyes like Wendy, and her eyes are gray. So it couldn’t have been about Lila-Mae’s eyes.”
“Unless Finch wasn’t having a lucid moment when he said that,” Celeste suggested.
Morgan pulled up at
Sticks and Stones
and they all got out. Fiona glanced back over her shoulder as they piled onto the front porch while Morgan unlocked the door.
“I don’t see that we have much else to go on.” Morgan pushed the door open. “So let’s assume the last line is about the mortar and pestle.”
“At least a green one will be easy to find.” Fiona gestured for Celeste and Jolene to precede her inside, cast one last glance down the road, then closed the door behind them.
Jolene felt an immediate rush of energy, just like she did every time she came into the shop. There was something about it that unnerved her and empowered her at the same time. The shop was special, but she really didn’t know why.
They followed Fiona to her work area. She picked up four necklaces, handing them out to each of the girls. Jolene slipped hers on her neck and immediately felt calmer. The obsidian amulet would help bounce off any negative energy that got directed toward her, but only if she got the stone directly in the stream of the energy. With her skills not functioning properly, she could use all the help she could get. The necklaces, along with the mica mirror they’d borrowed from Swain, would give them an edge if they were attacked.
“If we’re going to the pharmacy ruins, we should have brought that mica mirror,” Jolene said.
“I actually did.” Fiona smiled. ”It’s in a box in the back of the car.”
“That box?” Celeste frowned. I moved that because it was bouncing around and it seemed kind of heavy for the—“
“
Meow!
”
Jolene whirled toward the sound. Belladonna sat by the door, eyeing them with her ice-blue eyes. She flicked her tail, then trotted toward the front of the room. “Hey, I thought you took her home.”
“I did!” Fiona narrowed her eyes at the cat.
“Yeah, I saw you,” Celeste said. “You dropped her off in the foyer.”
“And now she’s back.” Morgan crossed her arms over her chest. “I wonder if she was hiding out in that box.”
“It was kind of heavy,” Celeste said. “But even if she was … how did she get in here? She didn’t come in with us and the door has been closed the whole time.”
“
Merrrrow!
” Belladonna sprang up as if she knew she was being discussed. She raced around the edge of the room, leaping into the air and batting at invisible foes.
“She did that this morning, too,” Fiona said. “And she batted one of my earrings into the crack under the wall … right where she is now.”
Jolene watched the cat as she snaked one slim white paw under the crack in the wall, twisting and turning as if she was prying something out. And then, with a shriek, she whipped her paw out, sending a small object spinning into the center of the room.
“My earring!” Fiona stomped over to the object, stopped it’s rotation with her foot, then picked it up.
“I don’t know what gets into her,” Morgan said.
“Me, either.” Fiona held the earring up. It was an intense, emerald green color with black lines that glowed in the bright morning light from the window.
“What’s that made of?” Morgan asked.
“Malachite.” Fiona angled it and the light shone through the center, giving it a nearly translucent green glow. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“It’s gorgeous. What an amazing green,” Morgan said.
“Yep. It’s one of my favorites.” Fiona palmed the earring and headed toward the case.
“Wait a minute!” Jolene felt the hairs on her arm raise. “It’s green. It’s the prettiest green I’ve ever seen!”
The sisters stared at each other with wide eyes.
“The mortar and pestle isn’t glass or brass, it’s malachite!” Celeste said.
“That makes perfect sense,” Morgan said excitedly. “Malachite is a stone, so it could easily be imbued with powerful healing properties, just like the obsidian amulets or Fiona’s carnelians.”
Jolene pulled out her cell phone and checked her email. “Brody sent me the lists from the museum theft and the fire.” She opened the email and downloaded the two attachments, then opened the first one. “All the mortar and pestles stolen from the museum were wooden. There’s nothing green.”
“Maybe it’s at the police station,” Morgan said.
“That would be convenient.” Celeste picked up Belladonna, who seemed unusually willing to be held.
Jolene opened the second attachment. “Oh, good, these are all categorized. Let me look under the mortars category. Let’s see … cherry wood, cast iron, porcelain, marble, stoneware.” Jolene looked up at her sisters. “Nothing green.”
Morgan pursed her lips. “If it wasn’t stolen from the museum and it’s not at the police station, there’s only one other place it could be.”
“The rubble from the pharmacy on the Finch farm.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jolene pulled the door open, letting a gust of cold wind into the shop. “Come on. Let’s get out to the farm—we don’t have any time to waste!”
“Whoa.” Morgan held up her palms. “Let’s think this through. We don’t want to just run around like chickens with our heads cut off.”
“Right,” Fiona agreed. “If we're going to go dig in the pharmacy, we should get Swain. He can organize it to make sure we cover every inch.”
“Plus we need to drop someone off.” Morgan tilted her head toward Belladonna, who was purring contentedly in Celeste’s arms.
Jolene sighed and closed the door. “Okay, fine. But let’s hurry. We don’t want Bly … or anyone else to get a jump on us!”
It was only a short ride to the Blackmoore home from the shop. Jolene couldn’t help but notice Morgan’s periodic uneasy glances at the side-view mirror.
They parked in the driveway and Celeste got out first, still carrying Belladonna, with Fiona following right behind her. Jolene pulled Morgan back a few steps.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” Morgan glanced back behind them. “I mean, I don’t think so. I’m not sure, but I feel a bit uneasy. The faster we get digging and recover the relic, the better.”
No kidding. That’s what I was trying to say at the shop
, Jolene thought as she followed Morgan inside.
“Up here.” Celeste poked her head over the railing from upstairs. Jolene went up, following the sounds of voices to a room at the end of the hall—the one she’d helped Johanna set up for Swain’s mother.
She peeked in cautiously, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of the sallow, shrunken woman in the bed.
“Is … is she okay?” Jolene ventured.
Swain chewed his bottom lip, which Jolene noticed was raw. His face looked wan, his tan seeming to have faded overnight.
“She’s holding her own,” Johanna said from the head of the bed, where she was holding a spoonful of something goopy to the woman’s lips. “Annabella, these are my daughters.”
The woman’s eyes fluttered open. They were sunken and hazy, but Jolene could see a tiny spark inside. A will to live. Her heart fluttered—they
had
to help this woman and give her a chance to get better.
“Hi, there. Your momma and Gunner told me what’s going on. It sure is nice of you girls to go to all this trouble to help me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” Her voice was weak, barely a whisper.
“Oh, shush. No repayment necessary,” Johanna said.
“Well, you people must be magic,” Annabella said,” I haven’t felt like eating in days, but this stuff you’re feeding me is giving me my appetite back.”
“That’s Mateo.” Johanna winked at Jolene, then looked back at Annabella. “He cooked up something special for you.”
Jolene’s brows pulled into a tight ‘V’. “Mateo’s here?”
“He’s downstairs in the kitchen.” Johanna nodded toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go see what he’s cooking up?”
“Yeah, I should do that.” Jolene followed the smell of ginger and cinnamon to the kitchen, where Mateo stood at the stove. He didn’t see her at first and she paused in the doorway, wondering why his broad shoulders and dark, curly hair made her heart flutter.
“Hi,” she said finally.
He turned, looking at her with velvety, brown eyes. A smile spread across his face. The contrast of his pearly white teeth against dark skin seemed to light up the room.
What is it with this guy?
Jolene wondered, then gave herself a mental head shake. The last thing she needed was to get all woozy over a guy … especially one that can’t be relied upon to stick around.
“What are you cooking?” she asked.
“Oh, just something my grandmother used to make for me when I was sick.” He wiped his hand on the black apron he had tied around his slim hips. “How is the search going?”
Mateo’s brows climbed up his forehead as Jolene told him how they’d figured out the relic was a mortar and pestle and their theory that it might still be buried in the remains of the burned-out pharmacy.
“That sounds promising.” Has face turned thoughtful. “You better be careful, though. Bly’s guys are in town.”
“The bearded guys?”
“Yep.”
“Well, they already attacked us and we kicked their butts.” Jolene said proudly. “Though that was before I got clonked with that tree and lost my powers.” Jolene’s stomach constricted and she looked down at her hand.
Would she ever regain her special gift?
Mateo’s face creased with concern. “Have you regained any of your gifts?”
Jolene’s heart skipped. She didn’t know if it was because of the look on Mateo’s face or because she was just as worried as he was about the loss of her paranormal gifts.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I think so … at least my memory seems to be better.” She motioned for him to step aside. “Stand back.”
Jolene closed her eyes and flexed her fingers. Then she pointed toward the kitchen door. She focused on her energy. Concentrating. Straining. And then she felt it … a little tingle at her fingertips. Not as strong as the feeling she usually got, but it was something. She pushed the energy out and then stared down at her fingers as a small blob of greenish-blue energy dribbled out and plopped onto the floor. She watched in disappointment as the ineffective blob shriveled up and disappeared.
Tears prick the backs of her eyes. “I guess my command of energy isn’t coming back as good as my memory.”
Mateo took her hand in his and looked deep into her eyes. “Don't worry … it will come back. You have to believe that it will.”
She looked down at her tiny, pale hand in his large, tanned one. Would it come back? Of all the sisters, she had the most powerful defensive skills. Her sisters were counting on her to use her gifts to fight off Bly’s minions, but what if she couldn’t come through for them?
“Ahem.” Morgan cleared her throat from the doorway, where she stood holding up a burlap bag. “Swain gave us these tools for the dig. He’s meeting us after his mom is done eating. Let’s get a move on … we have to get to that pharmacy before Bly figures out the same thing and beats us to it!”