Chapter 38 Jayne
I knew before we walked into my dad’s office that Mrs. Greenbaum would take care of JJ while we were talking to my dad and Ezreal. I was sort of counting on it. Just like I was counting on her scones.
Not that cake wasn’t enough for breakfast, but being low on sleep, I needed to keep my energy up, and sugar was the best way I knew to do that. Besides, I didn’t want to eat all the licorice I’d packed in the diaper bag. I had a Dr Pepper in there, too. Just in case.
And, yes, diapers and binkies and a bottle and a change of clothes and all of that. Being sleep-deprived hadn’t made me a bad mother.
I pushed the stroller, since it was more than Sin could handle while on crutches and easier than the carrier. I was hoping it would make looking after JJ easier, too. He seemed pretty content in there at the moment.
Mrs. Greenbaum was all smiles as we came in. “I heard you were coming. And you brought the little prince!”
“We did. Would you be all right keeping an eye on him while we’re in the meeting?”
“I’d love to. It would be an honor. Would you like a scone or two to take in with you? Cinnamon raisin today. Golden raisins, though. Not those horrid little dried-up brown things.”
All raisins were dried up, but I refrained from mentioning that. “They sound great.”
“I’d love one,” Sin said.
“I’ll carry them,” I said.
My dad’s office door opened, and Ezreal stepped out, greeting us with a nod. “I thought I heard you come in. We’re ready.”
I took the scones Mrs. Greenbaum was offering on a small paper plate, then gestured at the stroller with my elbow. “Everything you need for him is in the diaper bag.”
She was smiling down at JJ. “We’re going to be just fine. Don’t you worry.”
I wasn’t. Mrs. Greenbaum would protect him like one of her own, I knew that. Sin and I went into the office.
Ezreal had added a third chair off to the side of my dad’s glacial slab of a desk. He sat, and we took the chairs across from the desk.
“Morning, Dad.”
“Morning, Jayne, Sin. What’s this urgent news?”
Sin looked at me. I understood. This was my family, my find, my story to share. Sin helped himself to one of the scones.
I inhaled, hoping the news was received reasonably well. “We think that Serja Vintorf, one of the people involved in the True North group, is actually Janvier Frost.”
The air cooled off a few degrees, so there was no hiding my dad’s reaction. He sat back. “I don’t see how that could be.”
“Maybe I’m wrong,” I said. “But both names use all the same letters.” Except now that I’d said it, the reasoning sounded flimsy.
My dad shook his head. “That’s not proof it’s her.”
“I know. But it’s an awfully strange coincidence.” I got his reluctance. Janvier being back in the NP when she’d been essentially exiled was no small matter. I didn’t know the details, but I assumed she’d be in a fair amount of trouble if it were true.
I finally took a bite of my scone. So good.
My dad got out a pen and pad of paper and wrote both names on it. He crossed out all the same letters. He stared at the paper. Swallowed once. Cleared his throat. Then, at last, he said, “It is odd.”
I felt for him. Not only was there the issue of Janvier being in trouble, but there was the fact that she’d ignored her brother for all these years. She could have at least reached out, tried to explain, to ask forgiveness, to reconcile, but as far as I knew, none of that had ever happened.
He looked hurt. I hurt for him.
I put my half-eaten scone back on the plate. I had to keep going. “The thing is, Dad, we know what happened to Delton required a certain amount of winter elf power.”
“The kind a Frost would have.”
“Yes.” My heart was aching, but what could I do?
Pretend this wasn’t a possibility? “We were thinking that we could get Constable Larsen to bring her into the station for questioning and while she’s there, you could take a look at her from the observation room and make an ID. You’re the only one who could, so …”
“It’s not a bad plan.” He finally looked up. The pain in his eyes made me sad. “I take it you don’t have any pictures of her?”
“No.”
Sin nudged me. “You’ve got pictures of those kids on her mantel.”
“Oh, right.” I pulled my phone out and brought up the pictures. I turned the screen around so my dad could see it. “I don’t know if these will make any difference, but these were photos on her mantel.”
My dad took the phone and studied them. I ate more of my scone. He shook his head. “Maybe there’s a way to check the student registries? They look elementary-school age.”
Ezreal shifted. “Could you text those pictures to me?”
“Sure.” My dad handed my phone back, and I immediately sent the snaps to Ezreal.
He’d gotten his phone out and was looking at the screen. “Got them.” He kept looking at his phone.
“So,” my dad said. “When can Larsen bring this woman in?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her about this yet. We’ve been a little hesitant to say anything because, honestly, we’re not sure who we can trust.”
“Especially after what happened last night,” Sin added.
That got Ezreal to look up from his phone. “What happened?”
Sin got the truffle wrapper out and explained everything while I ate.
My dad slammed his fist on the desk, causing a few hairline cracks that healed almost as soon as they’d formed. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time for me to issue a statement.”
“Hang on,” Ezreal said, then he took a breath as he realized he’d said that to my father. He’d been distracted by his phone again. “My apologies, your highness. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“It’s all right,” my dad said. “What is it?”
“Could you give me a few minutes to try something? I need to run to my office. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Go on,” my dad said.
As Ezreal left, I finished the last of my scone, which was really good and had me wanting another. Mrs. Greenbaum had glazed them with the same vanilla glaze she’d used on the lingonberry flavor.
“Have you told Larsen about that wrapper?” my dad asked.
“Not yet,” Sin answered.
“If those chocolates had been poisoned—” My dad looked away, clearly upset.
“I know, Dad, but we’re okay. It was obviously just meant to upset us.”
“Job done,” he said. “I fear that Naming Day may be the real target.”
Sin nodded. “I’m concerned about that, too. I already talked to Ezreal about adding security.”
“Good.” He was still frowning, though. “Blasted thing. It has to be done publicly, which seems like exactly what they’re trying to prevent. Whoever’s behind this, I mean.”
“I’m sure that is the goal,” Sin said. “It would allow people to question JJ’s legitimacy, am I right?”
“Yes.” The word left my father’s mouth in a curl of frozen air. “And I am not going to let that happen. Your son is as much an heir to the throne as Jayne and I are.”
He shook his head. “The very idea that someone thinks they can change all of this just because they don’t think Jack Jr. is worthy is an affront to the monarchy. It’s rebellion. And I won’t have it.”
His gaze went cold. “This might very well be Janvier getting her revenge. I don’t want to think that, but the pieces fit.”
He looked at Sin, and his expression softened. “I’m proud of you, Sinclair. Proud to call you my son-in-law. I want you to know that. We will not be intimidated by these actions.”
“Thank you,” Sin said.
My dad shifted to me. “While we wait on Ezreal, get Larsen on the phone and fill her in. I want this Serja brought in as soon as possible. Within the hour.”
I took my phone out and stood. “I’ll go do it in the other room. I want to check on JJ anyway.”
I walked out, dialing as I went. Mrs. Greenbaum was holding JJ and talking softly to him. He looked enraptured. I held my hand up to indicate everything was fine.
“Larsen here.”
“Constable, it’s Jayne Frost. My father would like you to bring Serja Vintorf in for questioning.”
“The True North woman?”
“That’s right. Put her in an interview room with a one-way window so he can get a look at her. We’ll be there as soon as you alert us she’s arrived.”
“Your father is coming to the police station?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t telling her anything more. If this wasn’t Janvier, then there was no need to bring her name into the conversation.
“I’ll get right on that.”
“Wonderful.” As I hung up, Ezreal came in. He had a folder in one hand and seemed excited. “Did you figure something out?”
He nodded. “You’re going to want to see this.” He headed back into my dad’s office.
“Right behind you.” I smiled at Mrs. Greenbaum. “Thank you. Won’t be too much longer.”
“Take as long as you like, your highness. He’s the best baby ever.”
“Yes, he is.” Smiling, I went after Ezreal.
He was standing by the desk, the folder still in his hand. He started talking as soon as the door closed. “Something about those pictures felt familiar to me, so I ran them through some age-progression software.”
Why he had software like that, I had no idea.
He opened the folder and set two color images in front of us. They were pixelated from being enlarged, but that didn’t stop me from gaping at them.
“How accurate is that software?” Sin asked.
“I’d say fairly decent,” Ezreal said. “It was a recommendation from Birdie Caruthers.”
That explained the software. I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “This went from a big coincidence to incredibly crazy.”
“You can say that again,” my dad muttered.
The faces were ones I instantly recognized. Crispin Vale and Flora Merriweather.