Chapter 3 #3
“You could stop dancing around telling me how you know about the curse,” I said.
Griffin turned around and presented Cassian with a milky brown drink in a clear handled glass, topped with a layer of foam and sprinkled with cinnamon. “Here you go, Cass. Hot buttered rum.”
“This doesn’t look cheap,” Cassian said, cupping the drink between both hands.
“It ain’t. It was Boris’s favorite thing to drink when the weather got cold, and I thought you might like it too, being his grandson. He taught me how to make it,” Griffin said.
Cassian’s eyebrows rose as he eyed the drink. He lifted the glass to take a sip, and then covered his mouth as he set the glass on the bar top again. “Thank you, Griffin,” he said in a quivering voice. “It’s delicious.” And then he was crying, wiping his tears away with the heel of his hand.
I rested a hand on his shoulder, suspecting he might appreciate the touch. Cassian clasped my hand, confirming my suspicion.
Griffin sighed, frowning while he watched Cassian sniffle and sob. “Cassian…”
“I’m sorry,” Cassian blubbered as he slid off his seat. “Nobody needs to see this.” He added a laugh at the end as if we would think his pain was funny, but neither Griffin nor I laughed with him.
“Please don’t go,” I said. “Nobody should have to grieve alone.”
“Yeah, Cass. I miss the old man too,” Griffin said. “You remind me so much of him sometimes it makes me mad he’s not still here, and I suppose I’ve been taking it out on you. It’s not your fault he’s gone.”
Cassian took a shuddering breath and sat back down. “You said I was nothing like him.”
“You’re not him. That’s all,” Griffin said, rubbing a large hand over his shaven head. “I’m sorry I said that. You’re so good at hiding your pain, I guess I thought…”
“What? That I didn’t miss him?” Cassian asked.
Griffin shrugged. “It had been so long since we’d seen you. Before Boris died, you hadn’t visited in years.”
“That’s why you think I don’t care,” Cassian said softly with a sniffle. “It keeps me up at night that I didn’t visit sooner.”
“What stopped you?” I asked.
Cassian rubbed his face, sighing. “My selfish idea of what my life could be. I was so sick of innkeeping that I never wanted to set foot in another inn again. I wanted a life where the people I meet and befriend don’t leave the next day.
It was a little better at my parents’ Shoreside Inn where people sometimes stayed for up to a week, but a traveler’s inn…
” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Griffin.
I thought about visiting all the time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I missed you all so much.”
Griffin sighed heavily. “We missed you too, Cass.”
“Did Grandpa also think I didn’t care?” Cassian asked.
Griffin shook his head. “Boris knew what you were going through, and he said you’d be back someday. It’s just too bad someday came for him first.”
Cassian let out a shuddering, tearful breath. “Yeah…”
“Give it some time, Cass. You’ll see innkeeping isn’t really like that if you stay in one place,” Griffin said.
Cassian sniffled and took another sip of the buttered rum. “You know, my parents never really showed me how they ran things. They only ever taught me how to give out room keys or run someone’s dinner out. And Grandpa… He never made me work when I visited.”
“That explains why you’re so bad at this,” Griffin said.
I tensed up, ready to defend Cassian, but Cassian just laughed. “You can tell me when I’m messing up, you know. I’m not doing it to annoy you,” Cassian said.
Griffin chuckled. “Can I give you some advice, then?”
“Please,” Cassian answered.
“I appreciate you bringing this young man out here to break the curse, but that’s just a patch over the bigger problem.
You need to find whoever placed the curse and make sure it doesn’t happen again.
Someone with a vendetta big enough to risk arrest won’t back down after one curse.
They’re either stupid or very angry,” Griffin said.
I leaned forward, interested in this new piece of information. Until now, Griffin had been the leading suspect. This was an interesting turn. Why would he tell Cassian to find the person if he had done it?
Cassian and I exchanged a quiet look. He turned to Griffin again and said, “We are looking for the person, Griffin.”
Griffin furrowed his brow and glanced back and forth between us. His eyebrows shot up. “Hold on now. You think it was me?” He looked at me when he said this.
“I didn’t accuse anyone of anything,” I said. I had no idea how he would react to knowing he was a suspect. Most people became angry, but Griffin’s reaction surprised me.
He guffawed, slapping his large hand against the bar top. “You’re wasting your time, boy. Suppose I shouldn’t have been so mean to Cassian, seeing how much you two already like each other. But no, it wasn’t me.”
Cassian sipped his drink and looked away. I ignored the comment and carried on. “You know most guilty parties say that, don’t you? Why should I believe you?”
“And I suppose the innocent ones say they’re guilty?” He laughed again. “Trust me, if you want to catch this person, stop wasting your resources on me. It won’t get you nowhere. Matter of fact, what can I do to help?”
Cassian threw me a wary look before leaning over the bar to ask, “Would Willorunia be willing to help?”
Griffin’s good nature suddenly crumbled, and his expression became guarded. Willorunia must have been his wife, and he didn’t want to speak about her in front of me, a Force officer.
Cassian smiled at me before continuing, still speaking low. “I don’t feel I can handle it by myself. I’m technically still a witch’s apprentice. My desk caught fire when I tried to teleport something last week, so I don’t trust myself with the entire inn.”
This was the first Cassian had actually admitted he was a witch in front of me. A smile crept onto my lips despite my desire to keep cool.
“Wow, Cass. You were right to worry about burning the place down,” Griffin said, chuckling. “I’ll ask, but no promises. She’s very serious about who she decides to help.”
Cassian clasped his hands together. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said. “Tell her thank you and that she’s beautiful and smart and that I’m her biggest fan.”
“Hell no, Cass. You gotta get in line behind me,” Griffin said.
Cassian giggled and leaned back in his seat, sipping on his drink again.
“Meantime, you should find that stable hand boy. He always had a bad energy about him,” Griffin said. “And I heard he quit because he thought Boris owed him money, but he was paid up. Little bastard lied about the dead to line his own pockets.”
“What was his name?” I asked.
“Ricky something. Ricky…” Griffin stroked his beard. “Marshall? Ricky Marshall? Does that sound right?” he asked Cassian.
“Ricky Marshall, yeah. I don’t know, though. He was just a kid,” Cassian said, scratching his head.
“Nah, if you would interrogate me over this, you better interrogate him too,” Griffin said.
Cassian shot him an apologetic smile.
“And you,” Griffin said, pointing to me. “I know you were just trying to question me, but you still owe me a conversation. Now, what’re you drinking?”
The demand surprised me, but I was starting to understand what kind of person Griffin was.
I didn’t believe he hated his job like Cassian thought.
I ordered the same as he made Cassian and decided to move on from Griffin for now.
A suspect’s insistence that they were innocent wasn’t good enough for me, but his willingness to help and to get his wife involved was a good sign.
I guessed I’d have to find Ricky.