Chapter 5
“It’s absolute rubbish!” Fawn (werewolf) was on the edge of her chair, her walnut-colored hair cut short and wavy. She pointed one very sharp fingernail at the vampire.
Sage stuck out her tongue and popped another grape in her mouth. She rolled it around before chomping down. “You just didn’t like the ending.”
Fawn held the book up and shook it. “It said it was a romance. That means it has to have a happy ending.”
“Technically it does have romance in it.” Herman (troll) was a solidly built fellow, with a heavy brow, short beard, and a gravelly voice. “That nice man and other grumpy man fall in love.”
“But they break up at the end,” Fawn said.
“Well, they can’t be together. One of them is married.” Lochlan was a Bluecap, with a sweet sincere face and curly dark hair that stuck out from beneath his blue beanie.
“Divorcing,” Sage said. “His wife is divorcing him.”
“The men are still work partners,” Ottilie pointed out. She was a matagot (cat shifter), and looked like that actress, Julie Newmar.
Fawn sat back with a huff. “I wanted them to live happily ever after.”
“There are six books in the series,” Than noted. The (vacationing) god of death held a fine china tea cup in one hand, the book in question positioned exactly across his knee.
“So?” Fawn challenged.
“One might expect a happy ending when the series actually ends. This,” he said in a tone that invoked the grave and made me shiver, “is not the end.”
“They call that a slow-burn,” Jules said. “Plus, book one does end with a happy-for-now. I liked it. I’d read the next one.”
Xtelle (ex-demon queen who currently—and often—looked like a pink pony-sized unicorn) made a rude sound. “No horses, no explosions, no demon unicorns. Zero out of ten. Woeful, horrible trash. I agree with Fawn. It was a bad book.”
“I’m on Jules’ side,” I said. “Sorry Fawn. It was fun, the mystery kept me guessing, and I can’t wait to see how the two of them work things out. Ten out of ten for me. Will read the next slow burn.”
“Speaking of slow burns,” Herman said. “Did any of you hear about the fire?”
A clatter of voices filled the room, but Sage raised her hand. “I was there. I can tell you what happened.”
“Was it the storage lockers?” Jules asked.
“Yes. Two units out of the five went up in a blaze. The rest of the structure doesn’t look great, but it’s solid and still standing.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Lochlan asked. He genuinely looked concerned. I hadn’t known him long, but every time we hung out at book club, I was reminded of what a nice person he was.
“No,” Sage went on. “No one was there.”
“Not even Joanie?” Jules asked. Joanie was the owner of the storage units.
Sage shook her head. “The units were closed for the day. She said those two have been empty for a while.”
“Electrical failure?” Herman suggested.
Sage shook her head. “I’m not a firefighter, but I wouldn’t rule out arson.”
That was met with a variety of reactions from contemplative nods to sounds of surprise to a whoop of delight from Xtelle.
“Now we’re talking!” she said. “Tell us more.”
“Who would burn down an empty storage unit?” I asked. “Is someone mad at Joanie?”
“No one’s mad at Joanie,” Fawn said. “There isn’t anyone in town who doesn’t like her.”
Sage popped another grape in her mouth. “Whoever did it used gasoline. I saw Ben dig an empty can of gas out of the bushes.”
“Yes!” Xtelle leaned forward. “This is the kind of news I need to survive the boredom of this tedious town. I mean it’s not revenge, but arson is interesting.”
“Arson is not interesting.” Delta, who was a dryad and part of the Salem roller derby team, seemed aghast. “If they’ve already escalated to burning a storage unit, they might burn trees next.”
Xtelle clapped her little hooves together, clouds of rainbow sparkles lifting in puffs. “Yay! More fire!”
“Or maybe,” Herman said, “it was an accident, and wasn’t arson at all.”
Sage shrugged. “It’s possible. That gas can could have been garbage someone threw out.”
“Boo!” Xtelle leaned back and crossed her horsey arms over her chest.
“Who rented the storage unit before it was empty?” Ottilie asked.
Everyone looked at Jules.
She laughed. “What? I don’t have my nose in everyone’s business.”
“Boo!” Xtelle repeated, louder.
“Pandora,” Fawn said.
“The goddess?” Dusi asked.
Fawn nodded.
“Hold on, hold on.” Jules patted the air in front of her. “Crow put on that disastrous garage sale and sold off all of Pandora’s stuff months and months ago.”
“Yeah, he did,” Fawn agreed, “but trust me, the unit was Pandora’s. It’s been sitting empty ever since.”
“Is she in town?” Dusi asked.
Took the question right out of my mouth.
“Not for years now,” Jules said.
“And are we sure it was empty? That Crow got rid of everything?” I asked.
“Joanie said it was empty and I believe her,” Fawn said.
I wasn’t the kind of person who suspected people of lying. Just like Fawn said, Joanie was nice. I liked her. I couldn’t think of any reason she would want to burn down Pandora’s old storage room.
“Well, then,” Xtelle went on gleefully, “now that the storage unit, a large, square, container that is a big box, if you think about it, a box that once belonged to Pandora—Pandora’s box, if you will—just burned to the ground.
I am sure it won’t have terrible, terrible consequences for this town and everyone in it.
“Or maybe it will!” She pulled her horsey lips back in a rabid grin. “Ten out of ten we’re about to be cursed!”
“Perhaps,” Than said, as he placed his tea carefully on the coaster next to him, “the authorities will see to the investigation and the further safety of the storage units.”
“I don’t know, Than,” Lochlan said. “The police have a lot on their plate. The fire…”
“Arson!” Xtelle inserted.
“…the dead man at the diner…”
“Murder!” Xtelle piped in gleefully.
“…and the upcoming Boast of the Coast is going to attract a lot of people. Especially the award ceremony announcing the winning town this weekend.”
“…boring! No, wait. Big crowds mean there could be so many more people for Pandora’s curse to curse! Delightful!”
“How is that delightful?” Delta demanded, exasperated.
“It entertains me!”
Dusi snapped her fingers. “Fawn. Does Joanie need anything? Help cleaning up maybe?”
I snapped and pointed at her. “We could all go help!”
Jules snapped more. “Let’s have a potluck! Who wants to sign up for bringing pizza?”
“What are we doing?” Xtelle snapped, louder and longer than any of us. “Why are we talking about pizza?”
Fawn ignored her. “Joanie said she has it covered. She doesn’t need help.”
I snapped, for real, because I had an idea. “If anyone is free for the next hour, we could use a hand sorting donations at the community center.”
“I have time,” Jules said. “Easy. Who else has time?” She snapped some more, her bracelets chiming.
Xtelle narrowed her eyes. “Oh yeah? We’re snapping? I can snap!” She snapped with both her front and back hooves, loudly. Since she didn’t even have fingers, it was quite a trick.
“Xtelle!” I said, “Are you going to volunteer to help sort? How generous!”
“Me?” She tossed her head, mane glittering. “Do something for nothing in return?” She laughed and kept on laughing.
At least she wasn’t talking about disasters anymore.
A few of the book club members exchanged knowing glances with us, and I almost, almost thought Than lifted his tea in the tiniest “well done” toast.
People stood.
“Do you need a ride to the community center?” I asked Jules. “I can drop you back off here on my way to work.”
“That would be great. All in favor of the book club being over?” Jules raised her hand.
The Ayes outnumbered Xtelle’s single Nay vote (which was followed by several more snaps).
Dusi stayed behind to hang more art. Jules followed me to the car.
We got in and she buckled her seatbelt then patted my leg. “Thank you for the ride. I was thinking of putting together little good-luck worry stones for the kids.”
“Great idea! How many do you want to donate?”
“I could get several dozen, if Bertie wants them.”
“Well, for the kids she’ll want at least a dozen. But for the competition?” I eased the car forward. It was still a little tricky to drive the twisty road, but we had already talked about pothole repair. “She’s going to want as many as you can make.” I gave her a grin.
“Typical Bertie!” she laughed.
I nodded. Small futures flashed. I knew Jules wanted to ask me about Jean’s future.
“Go ahead,” I said. “You can ask.”
“Am I that transparent?”
I gave her a look.
“Right. Okay, you know I…” She shook her head.
“I like a mystery. Love a mystery. But even more, I like helping people. Can you see me, or you, or Dusi, or all of us finding the killer? Can you see a shortcut to proving Jean’s innocence?
I’ve read the tarot, cast a few spells. But I’m not getting any clear answers. ”
“I can sure look. In a minute. You know what they say: Don’t drive and divine.”
She chuckled. “Good advice.”
It didn’t take long to reach the community center that was Bertie’s roost and command center. I parked, then cracked my knuckles.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s see if there’s some quicker way to help Jean.”
I looked.
Little futures flashed—
—and grew—
A dozen
Ten dozen
Hundreds of futures and possibilities spinning out in wild flaring images.
I sucked in a breath, startled at the onslaught.
But over and over I saw:
Jules, Dusi, and me in the New Fool Moon
or somewhere dark, the diner?
We run, we hide, we fight…someone?…something?
There was plastic wrap involved?
Sometimes I was on my own in the dark, sometimes they were with me.
I couldn’t see where we started searching for clues, couldn’t even tell if we’d found any.
But the thing that sent chills racing down my spine was the man and the woman who appeared in those futures.
No, wait. They didn’t just appear. They seemed to select the future they wanted and then jumped into and out of it.
Their movements were hypnotizing, almost as if it were a dance where one led the way and the other followed.
They were jumping and dancing through time.
What were they trying to do?
“Piper?” Jules shook my shoulder, and I took a huge gasping breath, the futures washing away.
“Easy now,” Jules offered me the water bottle I always kept in the car. “Are you okay?”
I took a long drink and nodded. “I am.” Then, at her concerned look: “Really, I’m fine. That was weird though.”
“What kind of weird?”
“There were so many futures. I never see that many at once. And two people were jumping through the futures like hopping across rocks.”
“People?”
“A man and I woman, I think. I couldn’t see their faces.”
She was quiet, staring out the window. “If some of those futures are real, then the man and woman could be real too. Moving between futures means they have some kind of power over time.”
“Gods?” I asked.
She nodded. “Maybe even demigods.”
“I’m a demigod. I can’t hop around between futures.”
She smiled and tipped her head. “Have you ever tried?”
That made me laugh. “No! I can’t even pick the right future half the time. Can you imagine me jumping around in a bunch of fake futures? The fallout would be…well, I don’t know what the fallout would be but probably not good!”
“I suppose,” she said, opening her door. “We can ask Myra if her magic library has any info on what a demigod seer like you can do.”
“Oh, I forgot to say, I did see us trying to find clues in the dark, and um…maybe getting chased?”
“Chased? By who? When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” She pushed her door and got out. “We’ll just wear our practical shoes for a while.”
I got out of the car too. The community center was a brick building that used to be an elementary school. It was always a little cooler inside than I expected. Bertie’s office was at the end of one of the halls, but we headed straight to what used to be the gym.
“So, the donations are good this year?” Jules asked.
I pointed. “See for yourself.”
We strolled into the room and Jules whistled at the mountains of clothing, toys, pillows, backpacks, art supplies, camping gear, and more.
Bertie had made some order out of the chaos, lining up tables to make it easy to walk between them, and stacking all the extra donations along the walls.
Finished, labeled boxes were arranged neatly on the stage according to age group.
“Every time I think I couldn’t be more impressed, Bertie does something like this,” Jules said.
“I know, right?” I grinned and waved at the half dozen people sorting through donations and chatting.
Then I spotted the Valkyrie herself.
“Brace yourself,” I murmured.
Jules cackled softly.
“Piper, I didn’t expect to see you today.” Bertie crossed the room, the heels of her flats striking clean, percussive clicks against the hard floor.
“Just here to help out before work.”
She raised her eyebrows and tipped her head. It wasn’t a smile, but it was approval, which was a huge compliment from her.
“Jules, are you here to sort?” she asked.
“I could. This looks like a complicated system.”
“It’s not so bad,” I said. “The tables have lists of what the boxes should contain. If a substitute is used, it’s noted on the list. Easy peasy.”
“Exactly.” Bertie started off.
“Can I talk with you a moment?” Jules asked, catching up with her.
“Walk and talk.”
They were out the door in a flash, so I wandered over to Yancy who stood at a table, writing something on a sheet of paper.
“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”
He looked up and smiled. “I thought I’d see you here. The sorting is slow, but we’re making progress.”
I looked into the boxes. “Wow, this is pretty great. For first graders maybe? No clothes though.”
“Those are sorted separately. We’ll put together bundles of outfits. If Bertie has her way, we’ll have a good selection of shoes and coats too.”
“I love how she just goes out there and makes things happen,” I said.
“Speaking of making things happen.” He strolled toward one corner of the gym piled with a heap of backpacks. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
He glanced over his shoulder like someone was listening to us, but everyone was busy sorting.
“I’m going to die, Piper. And I want you to catch my killer.”