Chapter 6
“I know what you’re going to say.” Yancy casually picked up two backpacks, considered, and chose two more. “You’re going to say I’m not going to die, I’m just overreacting, it was just a dream. But I’m telling you, Piper, I saw my death. And it was not accidental.”
The shock of his words faded to a low buzz over my skin. “Okay. Let’s skip me arguing with you. Can you tell me what you saw?”
“I’m still unable to…to see anything in the future. Still totally blind there. But I had a dream last night. I was looking down at my own dead body. There were, I don’t know, stuffed toys all around me—I know, I know, but it’s not today, not here. And I’m dead. Did I mention that part?”
“Yes. That’s awful. Was there a fight? Did someone hit you, shoot you? Is it a car accident?”
“Toys. That’s all I can see. So now you know. Once I’m gone, I’d like you to find my killer.” He loaded one more backpack into his arms and started toward the table.
“Yancy. You can’t just…” I dug for a pink backpack and pulled one free from the pile. “You can’t just accept your death.” I folded the backpack and put it in the box filled with pink flowery items.
“I can though.”
“Fine, you can, but part of being able to see the future means we can make choices. Try to change it for the better, right?”
“Free will exists, yes.”
“Then let’s make different choices.”
He folded and dropped backpacks into boxes.
“Yancy…”
He paused and his smile was kind. “I want to make different choices. My free will is that I have done enough by telling you about it that the future doesn’t arrive. But if it does, will you promise to look for my killer when I die?”
“If you die,” I took one of the backpacks out of his hands and held it. “If. Let’s agree to keep the possibilities of your continuing aliveness open, okay?”
“Happy to entertain that thought. You haven’t promised though.”
There was a part of me that didn’t want to agree. It felt like if I agreed, if I promised to find this killer in his dream, that I might be using enough free will to make it happen. I might accidentally lock in that future and in a small way, make his death real.
“I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t die,” I said. “But I give you my word that if you do die, I will do everything I can to find your killer and bring them to justice.”
The tension in his shoulders dropped and his smile was brighter. “Thank you. I just…I can accept my own end. But if it’s by foul means, I want to know they’ll get their comeuppance.”
“Have you told Delaney? The police?”
“About a dream? I suppose I could. But it was a dream. Not sure they’ll believe me. I am going to visit Jean later today. Have you seen her?”
“I saw her, well, I guess it was last night. It’s been sort of a blur.”
“So, you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“She’s under house arrest.”
The whole world seemed to go underwater for a moment and the memory of the dead body outside the diner flashed in front of my eyes. Jean was there, covered in blood.
“Delaney put her under house arrest?”
“Delaney doesn’t have a say in it. She can’t investigate a crime her own sister might be involved in.”
“You don’t think she did it, do you, Yancy?”
“What? Kill that man? No, of course not. But the law has to be followed, and Delaney and the rest of the force are following the law.”
I reached over and touched his arm. “I’m not going to let you die.”
“I appreciate that. But sometimes no matter what we do, no matter what we choose, our futures are set in stone.”
“Even stone crumbles,” I said.
He grunted in agreement. “Let’s hope so this time.” He went back to sorting.
I hesitated. I did want to help sort, but I wanted to check in with Jean too.
“Friends first. Jean first,” I said quietly. I headed to Bertie’s office and leaned in the open door.
Bertie sat behind her desk, Jules across from her.
“Yes?” Bertie asked.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but Jules, I’m wondering if you’d mind leaving now? There’s an…errand…I need to run before work.”
“Sure, hon,” she said. “Bertie. I’ll get those donations to you by tomorrow.”
Bertie gave me a look that reminded me of a hawk with a fish in its talons who very much did not want to share its lunch.
I waved and smiled. “The sorting is going great! So great! See you soon!”
She flicked her fingers in a dismissive wave, and we skedaddled out of there.
* * *
“Do you think Yancy is overreacting?” Jules asked. On the way to Jean and Hogan’s house, I’d filled her in on everything he’d said.
“I think he’s stressed about not being able to see into the future,” I said. “I think it’s bothering him more than he’ll admit. But dreams aren’t my expertise.”
Jules inhaled and nodded. “All right. We’ll wear practical shoes and keep an eye on Yancy. I’ll keep reading tarot and casting scrying spells. Are you going to get into trouble for visiting Jean?”
I hadn’t thought about it. “I don’t think so? The police didn’t say I couldn’t contact her.”
Jules rubbed her hands together. “Good. Let’s see if we can help. Maybe she’s remembered something that will give us an idea of where to start our investigation.”
We got out of the car.
“Other than the diner,” I said.
“Right. Other than there.”
Jules knocked on the door and only a moment later, Jean opened it.
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting—maybe that she’d be sad—but she was laughing, headphones pushed back off her ears, pink hair split into two braids.
“Jules! Piper!”
“Girl, what did you get mixed up in now?” Jules moved in for a big warm hug, and Jean wrapped her arms around her.
“It wasn’t me, auntie. I promise.”
“I know. Of course I know, honey.”
They hugged a little longer, then Jean pulled back. “Come in, come in. You have perfect timing. I just got done kicking Marty’s can in the game.”
She stopped halfway into the living room. “Wait. Are you both all right? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Jules said. “I’m just worried about you.”
“Piper, are you all right?” Jean asked.
“Me? Oh, all good! But you’re under house arrest. That’s awful!”
“That’s annoying,” she corrected. “I can’t help Delaney and Myra. I can’t find out who was at the diner. I can’t investigate the crime or the killer.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Jules said.
“Nope. No way. Do not stick your nose in the murder investigation, auntie.”
“I’ll have you know my nose isn’t anywhere near that investigation,” Jules said airily. “Let me get us all some lemonade so we can chat.”
She breezed off to the kitchen.
Jean watched her go, frowning. “Is she trying to solve this crime?”
“No?” I offered. I mean, it wasn’t a lie. We hadn’t officially started investigating anything yet. “But Yancy thinks he’s going to be killed.”
“What?” Jean spun, her eyes wide. “Did he see that in his future?”
“No, he still can’t see the future, but he dreamed he’s going to die, and he wants me to find his killer, which is really not my forte.”
She groaned. “This is not how it works. I’m the one who gets the doom-twinges, not Yancy.” She flopped down onto a comfy rocking chair, one leg tucked beneath her. “Make it make sense.”
I chuckled. “If it helps, it wasn’t a doom-twinge, it was a doom-dream.”
She blew out a breath. “Did his doom-dream have any cold hard evidence attached? Something solid we can look for?”
“No, just vibes and stuffed toys. I know how that sounds.” I paused a moment, considering. “He’s worried, Jean. He’s afraid.”
She twisted a braid between her fingers. “I get it. I’m worried too. He should tell Delaney about the dream. Maybe he lost his seer sight and somehow gained dream vision. Stranger things have happened.”
“No kidding.”
“Lemonade!” Jules swished back into the room with three glasses. “What did I miss?”
“Piper told me about Yancy.”
“And that you’re not looking for the killer,” I said hoping she caught on to my little fib.
Jules nodded. “Right. That’s right. Leave the mysteries to the police. That’s me. Minding my own business.”
“Auntie…”
“Oh, Please,” Jules chuckled. “When would I have time to chase down a criminal? I have the Rookery opening this weekend and we are so far behind. But maybe this will be all settled by then. I’d love for you to come.”
Jean smiled, but I could tell she was sad. “I’m sure it will all work out. I’m innocent.”
“I know you are. I know.” Jules squeezed her hand.
I sipped lemonade, a fire building in my chest.
I didn’t like seeing my friends sad. I didn’t like seeing how worried they were for each other.
I was going to find the murderer. I was going to make it so Jules and Jean didn’t have to tell each other everything was all right when it wasn’t. I was going to—just this once and only a little bit—use my free will to make things turn out the way I thought would be better.
I was going to sleuth my heart out for my friends and catch a murderer.
“Piper,” Jean said, “Please promise me you won’t get mixed up in this either.”
“I’m kind of already mixed up in it. I was there that night. I found him. I found you.”
“But the investigation,” she pressed. “I don’t want you trying to find the killer. It’s too dangerous.”
I sipped my drink. “I can keep my eyes open, though. Lots of people come through the diner. They like to talk. Maybe someone will mention something.”
“But for real.” Jean gave us both a look. “I want you two,” she pointed, “to leave the crime solving to the police.”
We were quiet a moment while Jean waited for our promise.
I raised my hand like I was in class. “Is it against the rules to listen to people gossip?”
“It is not,” Jules said with confidence. “Or I’d have been kicked out of town years ago.”
“Yay!” I lifted my lemonade in toast. “To gossip!”
Jean narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “Okay. I’m trusting you to stay out of the investigation. And to keep each other safe.”
“Will do,” I said.
Jules just tipped her glass in another toast.
“Have you remembered anything?” Jules asked. “From when you…um… found the body?”
“I think there might have been someone out there when I got there. I have a vague memory of motion. Of…something. But every time I try to see a face or even a general shape, I go blank.”
“Out there?” I asked. “You mean the back of the diner? Was it near the body? Near the door? By the picnic table?”
“I can’t remember where. But you’re not investigating this, right?”
I bobbed my head in an approximation of a nod.
“Have you told the police you saw someone?” Jules asked.
“Yep. I’ve got Hatter and all the rest of them on speed dial. I just wish I could clear this blank spot in my head and find my memories. I know I was behind the diner. I know I lived it, but I feel like I wasn’t really there when any of it was happening.”
“So, here’s a question,” Jules said. “Do you think someone used magic on you?”
“It’s…possible. But no one noticed magic that night.”
That was true. I’d tried to feel magic, but it had felt like the normalist of all normal nights.
“So, about Yancy,” I said navigating away from the crime we were totally-not-going-to-investigate. “Even though your doom-twinges are on the blink, can you keep an eye out for danger heading Yancy’s way?”
“Of course! I’m going to tell Delaney about his dream—no, you can’t talk me out of it. Our job is to keep everyone safe, even if the danger was seen in a dream. If there’s someone who wants to harm him, they’ll have to get through the Reed family first.”
I took a breath, relieved. I’d thought I’d have to try to keep him safe on my own. But Jean, just like Delaney, was quick to stand up and protect.
I liked that about her. I liked that about all the Reeds.
The alarm on my phone sang a little song. “That’s me,” I said. “I need to head to work. Jules, do you want a ride to the Rookery?”
She hadn’t let go of Jean’s hand and she squeezed it again. “I think I’ll stay here a bit. Unless you don’t want me barging in on your gaming time?”
Jean smiled. “Barge away. I could use some company.”
“Good then.” I stood and put my glass in the kitchen. “I’ll see you both soon.”
Jules walked me out. She gave me a quick hug, which caught me by surprise. “Be safe,” she whispered, “and call me if you find anything.” Then she shut the door.
Safe shouldn’t be a problem. I was going to be at work for the next nine hours. What could happen there? I mean, there was the murder, but that had to have been a one-time thing.
I drove home, checked on Smuckleberry, my snoozing tabby cat who was (thankfully) not up to mischief. A quick shower, a change into my uniform, and one look at Smuck’s automatic feeder and waterer, then I was out the door.
I made it to work three minutes before my shift started.
The place was stuffed to the gills, a line snaking out the door to the two tour buses.
I called a cheery hello to customers, picked up three menus, a pot of coffee, and got busy.