Chapter Ten #2
The staff and patrons know Gabriel by name.
They confirm his order of medium-well steak and eggs with cheese and clear his table on sight.
In contrast, Hiram’s presence draws whispers, stares, and disdainful glares.
He can only imagine the rumors. He wonders how they’ll have a private conversation amid the chaos, but when they sit, the noise dulls to a hum.
Gabriel opens his hand to reveal a vibrating crystal. The only sound is the friction between the crystal and the air, heightened by magic. No one outside the blocking stone’s radius will hear them, and vice versa.
“I didn’t know Washington legalized these for public use,” Hiram remarks.
Gabriel pockets the stone. “They haven’t, but no one will know unless you tell them.”
When the waitress arrives with coffee, Hiram orders something simple: eggs and toast. While pouring himself a cup and adding creamer, he watches Gabriel drown his in sugar.
“Why a private conversation?”
“You looked in Veda’s file the day you were in my office.”
“I did,” Hiram says, unfazed.
“That’s illegal.”
“I know.”
“I could have you brought in.”
“Okay.”
“Veda gave me an earful about it.”
“Of course she did.”
“Right.” Gabriel chuckles. “Then I’ll cut to the chase. I shouldn’t tell you this, but there was another murder in the Botanist case yesterday. Lucinda Hampton.”
“One of the Oracle Council members?”
“How did you know that?”
“Peter mentioned something.” Hiram recalls the town hall meeting to an enrapt Gabriel. Lucinda’s face remains a blur. “I bet they’re up in arms, probably accusing me of being the killer.”
“Actually, it’s been crickets.”
It’s his turn to listen in silence as Gabriel shares details about the latest murder. A twinge of guilt surfaces when he thinks back to his earlier interaction with Veda.
“That’s not all,” Gabriel adds. “I’m taking a shot in the dark here. She got a note with a series of numbers from the school vet, Dr. Simpson. Have you gotten anything like that?”
“Not numbers, but I did get a note that said, BeeyardS rain.”
“What?” Gabriel looks as confused as Hiram feels. “Do you have it?”
“No, it’s at home. I figured it was a mistake . . .” He shrugs.
“I’ll need to see it, maybe test the handwriting.”
“Okay.”
Gabriel pulls a photo from his jacket and slides it across the table. “Do you recognize him?”
Hiram glances at the ordinary man with a sandy beard and matching hair. “No.”
“That’s Dr. Simpson.” Gabriel lowers his voice. “I don’t know where he fits in yet, but I assume it’s somewhere. If you see him, don’t call the enforcers. Call me.”
Hiram nods. “Is he dangerous?”
“I’m not sure. He’s been cursed to devolve into madness the more he tries to tell the truth—at least, that’s what he told Veda.” He straightens the salt and pepper shakers. “Did you ever receive Antaris’s boxes from London?”
“I did.”
“Let me guess, I need a search warrant?”
Hiram considers it. “After we’re finished here, you can look. There’s a book that’s obviously Grace’s called The Hidden Powers of Rituals and Oddities. She put it in his box to be found, I’ll assume.”
“Given her pattern, yeah, it’s a good assumption.”
“I’ll let you see it if I can ask you a question.”
“Okay.”
“Veda—” Hiram watches Gabriel drain the rest of his coffee in two burning gulps, wincing. “Is she that difficult of a topic?”
“You’ve met her.”
Fair point. “Has she always been . . .”
“Paranoid? Defensive? That’s the only Veda I’ve ever known. She has her reasons.”
“The home invasion?” Gabriel’s silence is confirmation. Hiram taps his finger on the table. “Did she ever mention how they got in, with the windows and patio door locked?”
“The front door was in pieces,” Gabriel says.
“In the wrong direction.”
“I know, but Veda barely remembers that night. Looking at the file makes her zone out, like she’s reliving it.”
Hiram feels worse about accosting her. “I didn’t get a good look in your office, but if you check, I bet there’s an engaged lock in the rubble. Then ask how the hell someone entered a locked home with an active talisman—”
“That was untouched. Francisco thinks they broke into her house to kill her because of what she witnessed.”
“How did you end up on the Botanist case?” Hiram presses.
“Punishment. We were pushy about a case involving an illegal program of experiments on Seers. We broke up the operation and all but forced the prosecutor to take the case. Everyone involved ended up walking, but we pissed off so many people that they assigned us to a case they thought we’d never solve.
We spent six months staring at a dead end until I searched the national database for cases with the same elements, which is how I found the earlier victims .
. . and Veda’s home invasion. I thought it was a mistake, but after combing through scene photos, magical tests, and the interview with Sabine Dreary, her roommate, who wasn’t home that night, I realized that her home invasion was a lead. ”
“How so?”
“Because it was an anomaly. Until Grace’s murder,” Gabriel replies.
“Anyway, I learned Veda was in Proventia, and she’s been helping with the case since I contacted her, but pushing her for more details is difficult because it’s easy to see she went through hell.
” Empathy softens his voice. “That changes a person.”
Francisco meets them at Hiram’s home.
After a brief search, Hiram hands Gabriel The Hidden Powers of Rituals and Oddities, a photo album, and the BeeyardS rain note, raising a brow when Gabriel passes the first to Francisco and keeps the other two.
“He’s better with oddities,” Gabriel explains. “And I never forget a face. We’re both not bad at puzzles.”
Whatever works.
Hiram makes himself scarce, though he stays within earshot, unpacking the final boxes in his bedroom.
Last on the list of priorities, it’s something he’s been putting off—anything to avoid the clean lines and white walls.
Cold. Quiet. Devoid of character. Identity.
He could make changes, but practicality nags about resale value and neutral tones.
Too much personality, and it won’t sell. But will he want to sell?
They could live anywhere, in any country; Hiram has the means to make the sky their limit. But after a little over a month here, he’s not sure. Uprooting Antaris means separating him from Veda, and that feels wrong.
Unfortunately, he knows the truth. She’s right . . . and wrong. He could try to make up for lost time by spoiling Antaris, buying his love, but Hiram knows from experience that love unearned means nothing.
“You should go with a neutral color.”
Hiram doesn’t jolt, but it’s close. Gabriel’s steps are lighter than expected.
“Cream or gray,” he adds. “It’ll pair well with the dark wood.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Hiram closes the bedroom door. “Find everything you need?”
“About that . . .” Gabriel gestures for him to follow, leading the way to the living room, where Francisco waits, closed book in hand. “Ask him what you asked me.”
Francisco looks at Hiram. “As an Ellis, how connected are you?”
“No.”
“We’d pay a consulting fee,” he bargains.
“Does it look like I need money?” Hiram replies flatly.
Gabriel looks at the vaulted ceilings and crown molding. “Fair point.”
“Grace used a scrambling hex on several pages.” Francisco opens the book and holds it out. “If we don’t break it, we’ll lose whatever she was trying to hide. The department gave us the bare minimum in resources, but you might know someone who can help.”
Hiram looks at the pages. Broken words and letters float and shift, quickening the longer he stares. Random letters glow in different colors. It gives him a headache. He looks between the investigators and sighs. “I’ll help. On one condition.”
“What’s the condition?” Gabriel asks.
“That you don’t need my help again for anything in the foreseeable future.”