Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
The most expensive house in the Neighborhood was located in the area known as the Divide, situated to the east of Palmetto.
Its owner was Stella Von Hagen, the wealthy vampire known for her swanky key parties, which I actively avoided, and her selection of outrageous wigs that she changed to suit her mood.
Stella was most known, however, for the Lowchen dog that she carried like an extra limb.
Little Lord Ruffington wore a bow tie and matching vest that reflected the season or holiday.
Today he was dressed in black like a fluffy ninja.
“Well, it’s about time, Maya,” Stella said by way of greeting. “I was beginning to think you’d deleted my report without reading it.”
I tried not to stare at her wig, which was designed to resemble a multitiered birthday cake. “No, ma’am. I would never consider such a thing.” I gestured to Vale. “Stella Von Hagen, I’d like you to meet Vale.”
She lifted a limp wrist. “You look every bit as delicious up close, young man.”
Vale indulged her with a chaste kiss on her hand. “Up close?”
“I’d see you on occasion, when I still lived on the mainland. You never accepted any of my invitations, sadly, so this is the closest to you I’ve managed to get.”
“Don’t take it personally. I’m not fond of parties.”
“Or people in general, from what I’ve heard.”
“I prefer to keep a low profile.”
That made two of us. If Vale and I had to work together again, it was nice to know we had common ground.
“May we come in?” I asked. “We’d like to talk to you about your report.”
“Of course.” Stella swept aside so we could enter the grand marble foyer. “Let’s talk in the library. It’ll be quietest in there.”
I swallowed a laugh. The house was as silent as the grave. Even Little Lord Ruffington was mute, staring at us with a solemn countenance.
Stella guided us to a room filled with walnut bookcases that stretched to the intricate ceiling of the rotunda.
“Your library is impressive,” Vale said.
“Thank you. I modeled it after the Morgan Library in New York. Do you know it?”
“I’ve heard of it, but I haven’t seen it firsthand.”
“Oh, you really should. He had a wonderful collection of French literature once upon a time. I wonder if it’s still there.” She waved an airy hand at a plush love seat. “Can I offer you a refreshment?”
“No, thank you. We won’t take up too much of your time,” I said.
“Good. At my age, there’s no telling how much of it is left.
” She flashed a fanged smile. “My apologies. I shouldn’t make light of death under the circumstances, not while we’re all grieving again so soon after Belinda and Judd.
” She held up the Lowchen in his black outfit.
“Little Lord Ruffington is in mourning. He was very fond of Charlene.”
“You mean Darlene.”
Stella stroked the dog’s back. “Yes, of course.”
“I didn’t realize you and Darlene were friendly.”
“We weren’t, but she and Lord Ruffington wiled away many an hour together in the pool. She was exceedingly fond of dogs.”
“Your dog paddles with those tiny legs?” Vale asked.
“Heavens, no. Ruff has an inflatable chair with a built-in water bowl and treat dispenser.”
Of course he did.
“We’d like to know more about the heirloom you sold,” I said.
“It was more of a knickknack, really. A paperweight.” Stella pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled to a photograph. “Here it is. I purchased it a century ago, give or take.”
I leaned forward to examine the palm-sized stone etched with runes. “Do you know anything about the runes?”
“Only that they were written by ancient fae. According to the auction house, the stone was broken off a monolith that formed a treaty between the fae and the gods.”
Some knickknack.
“Do you know which treaty?” Vale asked.
“I assume it was to do with the Old War, but I wasn’t very interested in history.”
“You have a lot of books for someone uninterested in history,” I said.
“Don’t let the leather bindings fool you, Maya.” She plucked a tome from a nearby shelf and handed it to me.
I opened the cover to find another cover inside. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. “Point taken.” I closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
“How did you find your buyer for the stone?” Vale asked.
“Online. I didn’t see any issue with it since I used an anonymous handle and a private courier service. Expensive, but very discreet.”
Technically, it didn’t violate any Neighborhood rules or regulations, of which there were many, but there was an expectation that Neighbors wouldn’t engage in off-island transactions unless they took place through official channels. It was the best way to maintain the island’s secrecy.
“And the courier returned with payment?” Vale asked.
“Yes, everything seemed to be in order until the next day, when I went to store the money in my safe.”
“And discovered it was no longer money,” Vale said.
“Precisely. It had turned to a pile of dust, as though the money had dissolved right on my kitchen counter.”
“I thought the money was wired to you and had disappeared from your account,” I said.
“Well, I wasn’t about to put in writing that I keep a safe of valuables and currency in my home, was I?”
“Accuracy is helpful during an investigation,” I said. “What else can you tell us about the buyer? Anything you withheld or modified in your report?”
“Only that they responded to the listing immediately, almost as though they’d been scouring the web for it. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was happy to find a buyer so quickly.”
It was possible whoever bought the stone had an internet alert set for certain keywords.
“Did you mention the stone’s alleged provenance in the listing?” I asked.
“Yes, with all the usual disclaimers, of course.”
“If you’re not interested in history, why buy the stone?” Vale asked.
“Because it hummed, and the vampire I was involved with at the time had a fondness for oddities, so I added it to my collection of treasures. Obviously, when I relocated to Evermore, I was forced to downsize. I’d forgotten about that little nugget until I discovered it in a box at the back of my closet. ”
Only a vampire as wealthy and out of touch as Stella would consider her Evermore mansion as downsizing.
“Next time you want to sell something, please go through the proper channels,” I said. “The island was designed to protect you.”
Vale’s eyes sharpened. “Protect them or imprison them?”
“If the next generation hopes to thrive in modern society, then the older generation has to move along. It’s the only way.”
“You’re putting them out to pasture like cows,” Vale argued.
My cheeks grew warm. “I am not putting them anywhere. I just work here, remember?”
“Yes, and you seem to have put yourself out to pasture right along with them.”
Stella raised a delicate set of eyebrows.
“I appreciate your perspective, Mr. Protector, but I assure you I’m quite content on Evermore.
Life became increasingly stressful with the rise of technology.
I was constantly trying to avoid social media and passport renewals.
Living on an island devoted to others in the same predicament is a gift.
I’m not sure I’d go back even if I could. ”
Vale grunted his acknowledgment. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. There have been a few cases similar to yours in Savannah, which is why I was interested in learning more from you.”
“In that case, you should also talk to Franco before you leave.”
“Franco?” I echoed. “I don’t have a report from him.”
“I’m not sure of the details, but I think he may have sold an item to the same buyer.”
Ugh, not Franco.
“What’s wrong with Franco?” Vale asked.
“Was my groan audible?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“Franco spends most of his time in Buff Base,” I explained.
“The clothing-optional section of the Neighborhood,” Stella added.
Vale looked at me askance. “Nude beach?”
“Nude everything.” And I did mean everything. “Tennis. Pickleball. Golf. Activities that involve a lot of movement.”
“Pickleball is the right word for it. You’ll see,” Stella said with a knowing wink.
I didn’t want to see. I wanted to walk through blindfolded and shouting for Franco.
“I had no idea the Neighborhood was so progressive,” Vale remarked.
“The shifters are the frequent fliers,” Stella said.
“Makes sense,” Vale said. “Most shifters I know find clothing constrictive.”
“Most shifters you know are also in peak condition,” Stella replied. “Talk to me again after you’ve finished your visit. Bet you haven’t seen this many shriveled berries since that time your vineyard suffered through a drought.”
Vale appeared taken aback. “You know about that?”
Stella flashed an endearing smile that showed off her shiny fangs.
“Told you I know who you are. I’m a socialite, or I was.
It’s my job to keep up with the movers and shakers in our corner of society.
” She pivoted to face me. “He owns a winery outside Savannah. Gorgeous place. You should pay a visit if you get the chance. The wine is the cherry on top of a sublime sundae.”
“I’m glad you appreciated it,” Vale said, “although I’m curious how you know about my involvement. My ownership isn’t public record.”
“I believe it was Genevieve Bateman who shared that juicy morsel with me.”
“The name isn’t familiar,” Vale said.
“She’s passed now, but you would remember her if you’d met. She talked with her teeth, like a member of the landed gentry.”
“Was she English?” I asked.
“No, just arrogant. She was an incredible source of gossip for a human, however. And nobody made a blood and sand cocktail like dear Genevieve.”
“I’m as fond of gossip as I am of parties,” Vale said.