Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Abi
Iwaved her off, then turned to admire the lake, watching the cruise ship prepare to leave and sail on. There was something very odd about seeing a cruise ship while standing on Wisconsin ground, but Lake Michigan was so huge it didn’t feel entirely wrong, either.
A dramatic sigh drew my attention from my musings. “What a shame. I missed all the tourists.”
I peered back over my shoulder to see Josephine Dupont picking her way across the beach in her signature floppy white hat and sunglasses.
“You did,” I confirmed. “All the cruise ship tourists just returned to their ship.”
“Pity.” Josephine whipped a tiny glass bottle out of her Hermès bag and sprayed it on her face.
“It’s rose water hydration spray,” she explained, even though I hadn’t asked.
“This lake breeze positively dries out my skin, and I will not have it.” She smiled, but I think she must have had some poor work done plastic surgery-wise because the expression didn’t look quite right.
I mustered on. “You’re still here in Algoma? I thought you were touring the Door Peninsula?”
“I’ve gone and come back and wandered around this quaint area. Baileys Harbor, Two Rivers, Sturgeon Bay—it takes multiple towns to entertain the great Josphine Dupont—Dupont is French you know.”
“Yes, you have said that before,” I said.
Josephine drew a small compact out of her expensive bag and preened at her reflection. “It can never be said enough.”
“I see?” I said, slightly awed by Josephine’s sense of self-importance.
Still. Since I’m trying to work on being more sociable, I should attempt it with Josphine. While she’s highly entertaining, she’s not exactly the most agreeable sort, so it would be good practice.
I cleared my throat and wracked my brain for a new conversation topic. “So you’ve been wandering the area. What have you most enjoyed during your travels?”
“In Wisconsin? That is a very difficult question as I am hard to please. This state is obsessed with cheese and frying it in grease.” Josphine theatrically shuddered.
“Not to mention how weary I grow of this fishy lakeside smell. I am starting to grow so sensitive I shall soon start to gag due to the scent.” She withdrew a perfume bottle from her seemingly bottomless brand name bag and sprayed it generously.
Due to the breeze she mostly perfumed the air around us with a thick floral scent that I felt in the back of my throat, but she seemed satisfied with her work.
“If you don’t like it, why are you here?” I asked.
Josphine slapped her hand over her heart and froze like that for several moments, seemingly taken aback by my question.
I shifted, waiting for her response.
“Rude young lady,” she declared. “But you’re not afraid to voice your thoughts. I like that. Keep it up.”
And with that blessing, Josphine sailed off just as silently as she’d arrived, slinging her bag over her shoulder and marching down the beach.
I watched her go, torn between admiring her ability to loudly be her disagreeable self and resolving to continue to improve my social skills so I didn’t turn out like her.
(Not that I thought I’d ever have the funds to.
But at least thanks to my generous pay, I wouldn’t be shackled with student debt for the rest of my life!)
“Abi!” Daphne called.
I spun towards the sound of her voice, looking in time to see Daphne hop off the boardwalk, silently land on the beach, and jog in my direction.
“Did you catch them?” I asked when she reached me.
Abi shook her head. “Jonas got one of the rare spots on the street curb. They were climbing in the car when I reached the street, and pulled out so I didn’t get a chance to flag Jonas down.”
“So you didn’t get to scent Christopher?”
“Not directly, no. But!” Daphne excitedly rubbed her hands together. “I got enough of a whiff of his scent trail to know he’s not human.”
“He’s not?” I asked, leaning closer to whisper.
“No, but I don’t think he’s a vampire.” Daphne grimaced. “Though I can’t say for sure.”
My excitement fizzled out of me and my shoulders slumped. “Great. So in other words it’s another dead lead.”
“Not necessarily. You could ask Mr. Kinge directly about it. I’m pretty sure he’d have to know with Christopher going in and out of his house so much.” Daphne sneezed three times in a row. “Holy cow, there is some strong perfume in the air.”
“Sorry, that’s Josephine Dupont, a tourist with a taste for the high life. Let’s move on so you don’t ruin your nasal passages.”
“Thanks.” Daphne wrinkled her nose and started off at a quick walk, leading the way so we’d be up wind from the cloud of perfume. “So, will you ask Mr. Kinge?”
“Sure. Since you know Christopher isn’t human I think it warrants enough concern I might be able to convince Beckett to check it out if he doesn’t already know what kind of supernatural he is.”
Daphne snorted. “I don’t think it will take much to convince him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing!” Daphne dropped her gaze to the beach. “I’ll get back to sniffing, just in case Christopher is not our violent-minded vamp. But what were we talking about before all of this?”
We’d been talking about the night I’d gotten pheromoned, but I didn’t want to remind Daphne of this as she might review the incident and again declare it her Pack’s failure. I needed to introduce a different topic. “Did I tell you about the Paragon’s visit?” I asked, a little desperate.
Daphne slapped her hand on my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks. “The Paragon? What? No!”
I eagerly filled her in on the details, happy I could distract my friend and entertain her with a story—although I left out some of the finer details, like, for example, that the Paragon came to take a picture on behalf of one of Beckett’s pals from the Crusty Old Man Club.
That little bit of information would probably only reinforce Beckett’s image as powerful and untouchable—exactly the opposite of what he wanted.
I was afraid Daphne would want to know why the Paragon had taken the photo, but to my surprise she had latched on to the gift of tea he’d given us.
“What kind of tea was it?” she asked as she directed me to a bench on the boardwalk.
“I’m not sure; it wasn’t labeled,” I said.
“You haven’t tried it?” Daphne asked, her eyebrows reaching for her hairline in her disbelief.
“No. Why would we?” I asked as I plopped down on the bench.
“Because it’s a gift, from the Paragon!”
“Yeah, and he’s a fae—a race notorious for their cunning,” I pointed out. “Beckett made it clear to me never to accept a gift from a fae.”
“But he’s the Paragon. As the top fae representative he isn’t going to do anything notorious or sneaky that would harm his image or the fae’s image, plus he’s super powerful.”
“You could be right,” I said, reluctantly. “But it doesn’t seem worth the risk.”
Daphne leaned in, jostling my shoulder with hers. “For all you know, it’s a tea that could make you cry pearls or sneeze gold dust or something.”
As financial bribes were the way to my heart, I’m not embarrassed to admit this one point changed my entire line of thinking.
“When you put it that way,” I said, slowly.
“Try the tea,” Daphne said. “This is the one time a fae gift is guaranteed to be something nice.”
“Alright,” I said, persuaded. “I’ll let you know what it does.”
“Good.” Daphne nodded, satisfied. “Now, do you want to go grab a late dinner together? Since it’s almost dark, the beach is pretty much empty.”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea!” I stood up and brushed my butt off in case sand or debris stuck to my jean shorts. “Thanks for being willing to skulk around the beach and sniff everyone like a police dog, by the way.”
“Absolutely,” Daphne said. “Honestly, I’m happy to have someone to work with and bounce ideas off of about this whole mess. My Pack leaves this kind of thing to me since I’m the Alpha.” Daphne scowled. “I can’t wait for Flint to get old enough to take over.”
I laughed, and together we marched down the boardwalk, heading towards town—and dinner.