Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
The meeting at the historical society is most notable for Donovan’s grudging attempts at civility, Ethan’s irrepressible enthusiasm for Sapphire Springs’ genealogy, and my struggle not to shoot meaningful glances in Mrs. Fontaine’s direction.
I’d forgotten she sits on their board, which wouldn’t normally be a big deal; Sapphire Springs’ old families are all intertwined in one way or another. Early on in my career, when I was still a hungry freelancer, I designed a ton of programs and marketing collateral for local fundraisers. After a while, I couldn’t help but notice the names that appeared again and again, both as board members and as sponsors. Mrs. Fontaine, Mrs. Grant, and Mrs. Hernandez were freaking everywhere. Back then, I thought it was just because they were committed to doing their civic duty , as Charlotte’s mother would put it. But now, I wonder if it’s because they wanted to keep their fingers on the pulse of what was happening at the highest level of Sapphire Springs, where the folks with old money spent their time. Is that what a coven’s supposed to do? What do they do, anyway? I have so many questions.
Ethan briefs the society’s board on our project, which is essentially 23andMe for our local area, with some bells and whistles, and the society’s board members have some interesting suggestions about graphic user interfaces that have worked well for similar endeavors. I try to do my best impression of an attentive listener, but honestly, I couldn’t care less. All I can think about is pulling Mrs. Fontaine aside and asking if she’s had any luck connecting with this High Priestess, Marilyn Whoever-She-Is. As one minute fades into the next, it takes every bit of my self-control not to leap up and run from the room, screaming.
At long last, the meeting comes to an end. Donovan stands without looking at me and stalks out, Ethan stays to glad-hand with some of the board members, and I escape to the bathroom, motioning for Mrs. Fontaine to follow.
As soon as the door closes behind us, I lean back against the marble sink and get right into what’s on my mind. We don’t have much time, after all; someone might come in at any minute. “What happened when you tried to contact the High Priestess? Did you learn anything?”
Mrs. Fontaine adjusts the trademark black cat’s-eye glasses she’s worn as long as I’ve known her, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Shhhh. We can’t talk about this now, Rune. It’s not safe.”
“There’s no one in here! Look.” I make a show out of ducking my head to peer under each stall. “I have to go out of town soon. At least give me something.”
Her eyes narrow behind her glasses. “Out of town? When? And why?”
“For work, some kind of stupid corporate retreat. Ethan just told us about it; I don’t have the exact dates yet. But”—I lower my voice—“I bet I can use it to find out something. If Ella’s right about someone at Smashbox being behind my family’s death, then maybe whoever it is will be at the retreat, too. I could snoop around, turn up some evidence.”
Mrs. Fontaine’s hands fall to her hips. She’s wearing a very proper tunic from Talbot’s, cinched with a belt, but the expression on her face is feral. “You most certainly will not! You can’t put yourself in jeopardy that way, Rune.” If someone could whisper-yell, that’s what she’s doing. “I’ve asked the—the higher authority what she thinks of all this. She wants to come to Sapphire Springs. To meet you. And to do that, you need to be here. Not off on a fool’s errand with the very people who might have killed David and Lorelai!” She claps a hand over her mouth, shooting a glance toward the door, like she thinks there might be someone out there with their ear pressed to the other side.
“It’s not a fool’s errand,” I say stubbornly. “And I have to go. I need this job.”
“A fat lot of good it’ll do you if you’re dead!” She raises a hand, counting off her points one by one. “The brand on your palm. The spikes in the ley lines’ power. Andrew Cooper’s presence here, to investigate them. Ella’s premonition. Whatever’s going on with your own powers, which you can’t even speak to me about. All of it adds up to something highly suspicious, Rune. And you’re at the center of it. The goddess only knows what danger you’ll be in if you hare off this way!”
Maybe it’s the fact that the monster, the man I feared for so many years, is dead. Maybe it’s that I’m sick of being at the mercy of premonitions I can’t control. Or maybe it’s that some secret, stupid part of me relishes the idea of going on a retreat with Donovan Frost. Either way, I dig in my heels. “Where was this higher authority of yours when I was being shuttled from one crappy foster home to another?” I demand. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet her. If she wants to talk to me so badly, she can wait a few days more.”
Mrs. Fontaine tucks her silvered hair behind her ears, forehead creased with alarm. “I understand that you’re upset, Rune, and I don’t blame you. But the High Priestess doesn’t wait for anyone. If she wants to see you, you obey her summons.”
Seriously? “I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m going on this retreat. You’ve got my cell number. If you find out anything while I’m gone, please call me.”
“But—”
“I have to go,” I tell her. “Ethan will be wondering where I am.”
With that, I brush past her and push open the bathroom door. Her face scrunches into a knot of concern, and she toys with the strap of her mammoth purse, as if she’s considering swinging it at my head to knock me out cold. But she doesn’t attempt to stop me.
Ethan intercepts me halfway toward the conference room. “There you are!” he says. “Frost took off, probably to catalogue the damage. You really did a number on him.”
My cheeks burn. “I just tripped. I didn’t mean to knock him down.”
“Ah, it was good for him. He’s a helluva data engineer, but a little uptight, you know?” He winks at me. “Anyway, I think this little get-together went well. The historical society’s a fantastic resource. Don’t hesitate to consult them if you think they can help. In the meantime, Ellen will be sending you an itinerary for the retreat. It starts tomorrow at 10:00 a.m., up at the center in Granville Falls. You’re familiar with it, right?”
My phone buzzes, but I ignore it, fixated on the words that have just come out of his mouth. One word, in particular. “Tomorrow?”
He’s busy staring down at his smartwatch, swiping through what looks like a thousand emails. “Yes,” he says, sounding absentminded. “Sorry about the short notice. We’ve been planning it for a while, of course, but I didn’t think to include you, since you normally work from home, and Frost—well, he’d sooner spend his free time tethered to a keyboard than hanging out with actual human beings. But I can tell the two of you could use some assistance navigating your working relationship, and the timing’s perfect.”
I want to ask him what gave it away, but I don’t trust my voice. “How long is this retreat, anyway?” I ask instead.
“Oh, just two nights.” He’s poking away at his watch now, his index finger stabbing at a shiny icon. “I’ve got to go. Lots to organize, you know? But we’ll have a great time in Granville. Watch for that email.” And then he’s gone, striding out the historic society’s double wooden doors, heedless of the cluster fuck he’s left in his wake.
I can’t go on a retreat with Donovan tomorrow. We’re not even speaking to each other, by which I mean he’s barely speaking to me. Sure, he fed me that line about needing to interact for professional purposes, but what does that even mean? If we had to participate in a trust fall exercise, I bet he’d accidentally-on-purpose let me hit the floor. And if our roles were reversed, he’d probably think I’d let him crash and burn on purpose…that I planned to humiliate him and then go running right back to Cooper with the news.
My head roiling, I dig my phone out of my purse to see who texted me. It’s Charlotte, who’s been checking in on me ever since I ran out of her house during the blackout.
Let me know when you want to get together and talk about the parent thing some more
Oh, God. With everything that’s happened, I haven’t even thought about what to tell Charlotte. Last thing she knew, I was desperate to discover my parents’ identities. Now I know who they are and how they died…but there’s no way I can explain that to my best friend. What the hell am I going to do?
When in doubt, delay.
thanks, I will. just found out I have to go out of town for work tho
Her response is instant.
Omg. with grumpy sex spreadsheet guy?
This is going from bad to worse.
Yes unfortunately. I’ll keep you posted. Would you mind feeding Valentine while I’m gone? I’ll owe you one
When she agrees, thank goodness—the girls are obsessed with my cat, and she thinks this will “teach them responsibility”—I shove my phone back into my purse and walk outside, half-hoping, half-fearing that Donovan will be waiting for me, so we can have a much-needed conversation about how to handle the next two days. But no such luck. Because the moment I step onto the historical society’s wide front porch, there, in full uniform, arms folded across his chest and jaw clenched so tight he could give Donovan a run for his money, is Andrew Cooper.
“Goddamn it, Rune. What the hell did you do to my brother?” he growls.