“Who are you?”
“Security for Mr. Lyons. Who are you?”
The new guy wasn’t nearly as nice as Steve. “Tammy Jo Trask. I’d like to see Mr. Lyons and to retrieve my house cat, Mercutio. You might have seen him around. He’s got spots like a leopard, but he’s a lot sweeter.”
“Trask. You’re on the list, but Mr. Lyons is out.”
“Can I come in and get my cat?”
“Sure. Report to Mr. Jenson.”
“Okey dokey.” The gate slid open. Easy as shooting fish in a bathtub.
I drove up to the house, and Mr. Jenson met me in the foyer.
“Hey there,” I said. “I left this morning in kind of a hurry.”
“Your undergarments are in the dryer. They will be ready shortly.”
I just know my face turned red as a candy apple. “Oh . . . I was actually talking . . .”
“Mercutio has been fed. He is in the solarium pursuing the birds.”
“What’s a solarium?”
“Shall I show you?”
“Not right now. Did you happen to come across an old book in or near a cabbage-rose-print tote bag?”
“No.”
“It might have been in Mr. Lyons’s room with . . . the other things I left.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“You know what else I lost? An antique locket. I asked Bryn to hold it for me a few days ago and forgot to get it back from him. Have you seen that?”
It was long shot, but you never make a fourth-down touchdown from your own twenty-yard line if you don’t throw a Hail Mary pass now and then.
“A woman’s locket? No.”
“Well, I’ll just have a quick look in Mr. Lyons’s room for my book.” I thought about Bryn’s office nook in the closet. If he hadn’t put my spellbook there, I could just borrow one of his. And maybe find my locket, too.
“I think Mr. Lyons would prefer for you to wait in the living room for him until he returns. May I get you something to drink? Something cold and carbonated, perhaps?”
“Mr. Jenson, if you and Mr. Lyons ever have a falling-out, I want you to know that I’ll find room for you to live with me. I couldn’t pay much, but I’d make you a torte every week.”
Jenson smiled. “I will bear that in mind. And may I say that I understand why Mr. Lyons finds you so charming?”
“Thank you. I wish I could say it was mutual, but, between you and me, I have reason to think that Mr. Lyons has done something pretty low.”
“To whom? You?”
I nodded.
“I shouldn’t think so, Miss Tamara. Between the two of us, as you say, I have it on good authority that Mr. Lyons hopes to see a great deal of you. I don’t believe he would jeopardize his friendship with you.”
He hopes to see a great deal of me out of my underwear while siphoning power off me like some people steal cable.
“You could be right. I’ll have a seat,” I said, going to the living room.
My “Cowboy, Take Me Away” ring tone went off, and I started searching for my cell. Turns out my tote bag was behind the couch, but there was no spellbook in it.
I pulled the phone out. Zach’s picture was displayed on the little screen and I grimaced, glancing out the window at Nadine’s Ram in the circular drive. I thought about ignoring it, then I thought about him bleeding and maybe needing me to drive him to Dallas.
“Hello,” I said.
“Where are you?”
“Me? Oh, I’m just fine. How’s your chest?”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m picking up my cat.”
“You stole my brother’s wife’s car to go back to Lyons’s place?” he asked, sounding like he’d asked, “You stole a car to drive to a nursery and murder babies?”
“There’s a dog named Angus who lives here. I have to rescue Mercutio.”
“Yeah, the safety of your cat was your top priority last night.” He paused.
I didn’t answer, because what was there to say to that?
“Nadine won’t press charges if you return the car by the time she has to drop the kids at her momma’s.”
“Nadine won’t press charges whether I return the car or not. No wife of a Sutton is ever going to send another one to jail. We’ve got a right to go crazy once a week. Just ask Nadine.”
“TJ is my brother, Jo. I tell him you’re messing around with Bryn Lyons, and I promise you he’ll let me put you in jail for your own good.”
I paced up and down on the plush carpet. “You can’t arrest me for having an affair.”
“I can’t arrest you if I say that’s the reason,” he agreed. “Now, I’ve got a warrant to search Johnny Nguyen Ho’s house. If you want to be there when I search, you should meet me.”
“Oh, I went to Johnny’s. He doesn’t have the locket.”
“Tammy Jo!”
“I thought he did. I swear it! And it sure was sweet of you to get a warrant.”
There was a long pause, and I was grateful that he didn’t say out loud all the curses he was thinking. Finally he said, “So you’re staying at Bryn Lyons’s?”
“No, of course I’m not. I’m getting my cat.”
And my underwear.
“And then where will you be?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure. I’m having to fly by the seat of my Levi’s just now.”
“Girl, you’re makin’ me crazy. Why don’t you come on home and behave yourself.”
“I’m gonna. Real soon.”
“Let me talk to Lyons for a minute.”
“He’s not here.”
“That right? Guess God’s not as pissed off at me as He has been. All right, get your cat and get out of there.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Count on it.”
I flipped my phone shut.
“Your ex-husband?”
I spun around to find Astrid standing right next to me.
I nodded.
“You make a nice couple.
Es muy
. . . he’s very handsome.”
“Thank you.” Too bad I didn’t have Mercutio’s paws to claw her eyes out with.
“I have an idea, a way that we can get these wolves off our backs as you say.”
“Just why are they on your back?” I asked, thinking maybe I could figure out why they were after me, too.
“I killed one of them at the meeting. My magic marks his blood, and the wolves in his pack will track me with it until I’m dead or until they can be thrown from the scent.”
“We were just defending ourselves.”
“Yes, I was. Will you help me in casting a spell?”
I gave her a once-over, trying to figure out her game. “Why do you need me?”
“I don’t have power enough to do it myself, and Bryn prefers not to share power. But you’ve got some very nice raw energy. I’ll tell you the words, and we can work the magic together and get these wolves to leave your town.”
Astrid cared about Duvall about as much as she cared about the state of Barbara Bush’s pedicure, but she wanted to save her own skin and that could work out for both of us.
“I would love for them to hightail it out of Duvall. I really would, but I’ve got to get a couple of things. You think you could distract Bryn’s butler for a few minutes?”
“Certainly. A few minutes is not difficult.”
Fish in a bathtub. I hurried out of the room and up the stairs. I opened the door to Bryn’s room and stopped at the delicious smell. Sandalwood and sex magic clung to the air, making my knees quake.
I felt like rolling around on the feather duvet and maybe licking some strawberry sauce off Bryn’s naked body. But I vetoed this idea since, one, I had important things to do, and two, he wasn’t around.
I searched the obvious hiding places for my stuff, under the bed, in the drawers, under the bathroom sink, but didn’t find anything. I zipped to the back of the closet. I wished there were some fur coats I could just magically walk through, but no such luck. It was all silk ties, Italian shoes, and a lock that was determined to keep me out.
Pushing against the door though, I realized it wasn’t that thick. I walked to the beginning of the closet, dug the heels of my boots in and ran.
I slammed my shoulder into the door, and it snapped open. I landed on the floor, glad and not-so-glad at once. I rubbed my arm, where I was sure to have a Texas-size bruise in the morning, then got up. At the desk, I lifted a framed antique photograph of the Gulf coast and Galveston Bay and, right under it, I found my spellbook sitting on the desk.
“Thief.” I shook my head. I looked on the shelves and quickly rifled through the desk drawers. I got my hopes up at a small padded velvet pouch. Inside, I found seven amazingly shiny gold coins, older than Edie, and nearly as pretty. Not my locket at all, but valuable and tucked away like they meant something important to Bryn. And I needed leverage. I got to thinking maybe I could trade them back to him for my locket. I didn’t want to play dirty pool, but October twenty-third was nearly a memory.
I grabbed a piece of paper and scrawled a note. I left it under a pewter paperweight of the planet Saturn. I got to the hall and dumped my book in my tote bag and ran down the stairs. “Astrid!” I stage whispered.
“Here,” she said, walking out of the living room.
“Let’s go,” I said, rushing to the front door and flinging it open. I looked around then ran to the Dodge.
“We can take my car. It’s fast,” she called.
“No, we’ll drive separate,” I said.
“Fine. We’ll meet at the tor.”
I stopped. “Oh, no. Not that place!”
“We need its power. No time to argue,” she said, getting in her car.
I chewed my lip, but didn’t really have any choice. I hopped into the Dodge and gunned it to the gate. How could I make a quick getaway if the gate didn’t open? Then I noticed a security intercom I hadn’t seen before because it was hidden by a hedge. “Now how was I supposed to see that?” What were they trying to do? Make things look nice? Ridiculous. I stabbed the button with my finger. “Hi, I’m leaving now.”
“I don’t think so,” the security guy said.
“What? Why not?”
“I saw you on the upstairs hallway camera. You stole something from Mr. Lyons.”
True. “No, I didn’t. It was my book that I was putting in my bag. I left it here last night.”
“Mr. Lyons will be home soon. He can confirm that.”
“I don’t have time to wait for him. Besides he knows where I live. He’ll track me down soon enough if he sees fit to. Now open the gate.”
“I don’t think so.”
“The Duvall sheriff’s office is on my cell phone’s speed dial. If you don’t let me out right now, I guarantee you’ll have a heap of questions to answer.”
I waited, holding my breath. I had a sack of stolen coins and a witch’s spellbook. If I called the sheriff they’d be bound to search through my tote bag, and just what was I going to say about the contents? Nope, definitely bluffing about that call. Lucky for me, the guy’s not a poker player.
The gate slid open.
“Yippee!” I shouted in a whisper.
I zoomed past the gate and onto the street. Then I paused to let Astrid zip out in front of me. From the Ram, it looked like she was driving a matchbook car.
I hoped Mercutio was having fun with the Solarium birds because he was going to miss one hell of an adventure with me and Astrid banishing all the wolves with a spell. Probably after today, I’d be retired from adventures. But that would be all right. I was pretty sure Merc would enjoy the quiet cake-baking life as much as me. After all, he’d get to eat his share of heavy cream while I whipped up desserts.
Yep, all I needed was to drive the werewolves off, find Edie, cure Zach, and get a new job. Piece of cake. Well, a five-layer, two-days-in-the-making, and every-pan-in-the-kitchen-dirty Death by Chocolate Cake maybe.
We got to the tor, and I broke out in a sweat at the thought of going back up there and drawing on that power. I wanted it and dreaded it, too. It was the same way I felt about being with Zach or Bryn for that matter. And I didn’t see why things couldn’t just be nice and simple for once. Didn’t I deserve a break for working really hard and having good intentions?
But maybe things were going to be okay. I only had a few big problems, and I was about to solve one. I just needed to stay focused and think positive thoughts. I parked the Ram behind Astrid’s little car and followed her to the chapel.
“We’re going to do it inside?” I asked. I’d never known Momma or Aunt Mel to cast spells in Holy places.
I’d gotten half a step in when someone grabbed me. My mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. I was face-to-face with the werewolf who had ambushed me on the chapel roof. The one who’d been mad that I hadn’t been afraid of him. He wouldn’t have to get mad today.
Chapter 26
I looked around the chapel. There were three of the wolf-men inside. One that I didn’t recognize was at the window, keeping watch. The third one was the lanky man, the tracker from Jammers. He stepped forward, and his straight, greasy hair and patchy beard made me very much want to direct him to Johnny’s hair salon, but it wasn’t the time. He stood in front of me and patted me down for weapons while the guy from the roof held my wrists in a tight grip behind my back.
I looked at Astrid, but she wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“You have her now,” she said.
Next time a strange witch asks me to cast a spell with her, I’m going to be busy making pancakes or waffles. If the town has to get eaten by werewolves or walloped by plagues, that’s just not going to be my problem.
My mouth was dry and my hands trembled as I tried to think of a way to get out. The tracker pushed Astrid away from me until she was pressed to the wall, then bent his head to the crook of her neck. She squirmed.
“Enough of this,” she said. “I’ve kept my part of the agreement. I expect you to keep yours. As you see, I was not a party to whatever she did before the meeting.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I protested.
The lanky man took a deep breath and then stepped back from Astrid. “She’s clean.”
“Go,” the one holding me said to Astrid.
“I’m clean, too. I used plenty of Dial soap in my shower today.” I tried to keep things light and casual, which is hard to do when you’re a hostage. My heart hammered, but I tried not to pass out.
Astrid left without so much as a good-bye. The lanky guy stepped up to me, leaning to put his nose right into the vee of the jersey. I tried to back up, but ran into the canine wall behind me.