Chapter 9. Annette #2
Morgan followed me. In a quiet, too-casual voice, he asked, “Hey, Grandma. While we’re waiting, are any of the books about magic and witchcraft you sell in the shop real?”
Oh, hell. Blake was going to be pissed enough about Ava calling me after he told her not to. If he learned Morgan was asking about magic again, I’d have a full nuclear meltdown on my hands.
After Morgan had learned he was one-eighth demon two years ago, he’d gotten obsessed.
Every time he visited the shop, he’d followed me around, pestering me with questions about the supernatural and why some humans could do magic and others couldn’t, and how his powers worked, and how Uncle Temple did his spells.
Thankfully, after an unbelievably long six weeks, he’d started soccer and—I thought—left the magic obsession behind.
“All the books are real,” I said. “We don’t sell imaginary books.”
He sighed dramatically. “Come on, Grandma.”
I sat in the loveseat. An obese tabby cat named Hobbes raced over and meowed for attention. I scratched her behind the ears. “How would your father feel about you asking?”
“I don’t want to be a wizard like Uncle Temple or anything.
I just want to understand. What’s the point of studying history in school when the teachers don’t know anything about magic or what really happened at all these battles and events.
Like, did a nineteen-year-old kid really assassinate Duke Ferdinand, or was it a demon trying to start World War I? ”
“You know better than to equate demon with evil. A lot of them are, yes. Maybe even most. But it’s still lazy thinking.”
“I think I know what demons are like. I’ve seen Army of Darkness three times.” He grinned to make sure I knew he was joking.
“Raimi got a surprising number of details right in that movie.” I kept my expression neutral. Let him wonder if I was messing with him. “Why the sudden interest?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “It’s not really sudden, but that guy Ronnie who came into the shop on Saturday got me thinking about how much I don’t know. You acted like he was dangerous. You wouldn’t have been so worried if he was normal, right?”
“Normal?”
“You know what I mean. You and Dad always say you want us to be safe. How am I supposed to stay safe when there are all these dangers and threats I don’t know about?”
He had a point, but if I admitted that, I’d be driving one more wedge between myself and Blake. “What happened Saturday with Ronnie was a misunderstanding. It’s under control.”
Morgan paced the length of the living room, moving with barely contained energy.
“I can’t even talk about this stuff. It’s like everyone else is living in black and white, and I’m the only one who knows the world is in color.
” He glanced at the stairs again. “I want friends I don’t have to lie to.
I know there must be other people like us around. I mean, it’s Salem, right?”
I wanted to help him. By his age, I’d befriended a shapeshifter and had a brief relationship with a merman whose family was spending a summer in the English Channel.
“Did Dad have nonhuman friends when he was growing up?” he asked.
He had. Including one of the Dames Blanches, a fairy who’d come close to luring him away because I wasn’t paying enough attention. “That’s a question for your father.”
Two sets of footsteps creaked down the stairs. Morgan folded his arms and sat on the arm of the sofa, clearly annoyed to have lost his chance to pry forbidden knowledge out of his grandmother.
Ava slunk over to stand in front of me. She stared, obviously wanting to ask about my hideously scarred skin, but said only, “I’m sorry I interrupted your work to make you come over.”
Her monotonal words couldn’t have sounded more scripted if she’d been reading off a teleprompter.
“It’s all right.” I smiled. “You’re more important than my work.”
Blake’s bitter snort was so quiet, I would have missed it if I hadn’t been listening for it.
“I heard that if you don’t find a missing person in the first forty-eight hours, the chance of finding them goes way down.” Ava blurted the words like she was afraid her father would physically cover her mouth to stop her.
“The longer someone’s missing, the worse the odds become, that’s true,” I said.
“Not helpful, Mother,” Blake said quietly.
“But every case is different,” I continued. “Sage’s parents called the police quickly, right? If something did happen, that improves his chances. Ava, has Sage ever run away before?”
“You don’t have to do this,” Blake said before Ava could answer. “I’m sure Sage will be fine, and the police have enough to worry about without an ex-PI getting involved.”
“I’m still licensed,” I said.
At the same time, Ava said, “No, never. But he’s been acting weird lately.”
“You mentioned that on the phone.” I dug my notebook from my purse and opened it to a new page. “Weird in what way?”
“Always staring off into space or staring at me. He told me there’s something special about me.”
“It sounds like he might have a crush.” That would explain the weirdness.
If Ava rolled her eyes any harder, she’d be able to see her own brain. “He also said there was something special about Morgan and Dad. Does that sound like a crush?”
“No, it doesn’t.” It sounded like trouble. I leaned forward. “What exactly did he say about you and your brother and father?”
Blake was frowning and listening intently now. So was Morgan.
“Just that we’re different, whatever that means.”
“Ava, tell me about Sage’s family,” I said.
“His parents are nice, I guess,” said Ava. “Sage never complained much, except once when they grounded him for stealing a charging cable.”
“I’ve known Sage’s parents almost four years now,” added Blake. “They’re good people, and Sage is a good kid.”
Ava looked off to her right, and her lips tightened.
“What is it?” I asked.
Her shoulders went up half an inch. “Nothing.”
Blake stepped closer. “Ava, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
She didn’t answer.
I turned to Morgan. “Would you please give us some privacy?”
He frowned and opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but before he could speak, his father gave him a look. Morgan swallowed whatever protest he’d been planning and headed for the stairs without a word.
“Nicely done,” I murmured to Blake. I waited until I heard Morgan’s footsteps in the upstairs hall, followed by the sound of his bedroom door closing. Then I turned my full attention to my granddaughter. “Ava Madeline Davis, look at me.”
With a huff and a sigh, she faced me.
“I’ve saved a lot of people in my life. Kids and adults, even whole families.
But I couldn’t save them all. Sometimes, I was too late.
I once had to tell a father that he’d never see his children again.
” Given what his kids had been transformed into before they died, not seeing them had been a blessing.
“Another time, I helped the police stop a murderer, but not until he’d killed four other people.
Do you know what both of those cases had in common? ”
Her breathing had tightened, and she was fidgeting with her fingers. “What?”
“My clients kept secrets. They thought they were protecting the people they cared about, but what they were really doing was making it harder for me to do my job. If they’d been honest with me from the start, I might have been able to save their loved ones.”
Ava’s eyes filled with tears.
“Mom—” Blake began.
I raised my index finger to silence him, never taking my attention off Ava. “Whatever you’re not telling me, is that secret worth Sage’s life?”
She jerked back, her eyes wide.
“That’s enough,” said Blake.
It was more than enough. Blake was angry now, but he couldn’t be as angry at me as I was at myself.
This was the same thing I’d always done with Blake.
It was why I’d failed as a parent—one of the reasons, anyway.
I cared more about the job than I did about being a decent, caring human being for the people I loved.
I’d been a PI first and, on a good day, a mother second.
On a bad day, mother might have come in fourth or fifth place.
Now I was doing the same thing again, using words to batter my own granddaughter to tears in the hope that she’d give me a lead in a case.
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” whispered Ava.
I wanted to hug her and say it was all right. I wanted to reassure her that if anything did happen to Sage, it wasn’t her fault. I wanted to promise her I’d find him, whether she told me everything or not. Instead, I simply waited, letting the silence eat away at her.
“He’s been jumpy for a week.” Ava sniffled. Hobbes padded over and rubbed his face on her leg. She scooped the cat onto her lap. “He talked about shadows spying on him. Then when he was over here on Thursday, he tried to give me a weird pill.”
Blake stopped breathing for several seconds. When he spoke, his words were terse. “Ava, did you—”
“No, I didn’t take it, Dad. I’m not stupid. Why would I take something when I don’t even know what it is?”
His face darkened. “Why didn’t you tell me—”
“Did Sage say where he got it?” I asked. Blake and I had swapped roles. Suddenly, I was the calm, reassuring one trying to keep him from losing his cool. It was disconcerting.
Ava shook her head. “He just said the drugs make you stronger and let you see other worlds. He got weirder when I wouldn’t take one.
He said I’d never see what was really happening in the world.
Even in my own house.” She looked at her father, and her tone turned accusatory. “Do you know what he meant by that?”
Blake didn’t answer.
“Ava, sweetie.” I held out my arms. She hesitated for less than a second before falling against me and sobbing. Hobbes barely jumped free in time. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“Will it help you find Sage?”
“It absolutely helps, yes.” I pulled her tighter.
My son was like a statue, except for his face, which cycled through worry and anger and confusion and fear.
“Blake, will you please take me to Sage’s house so I can speak with his parents?” I asked.
Slowly, he nodded.
“Thank you.” I kissed Ava’s head and told her, “I’m glad you called me. You did the right thing.”
“I just got your text. The incident with Ethan and Noah and Isaiah at the Gauntlet was bad enough, but I thought you had a better head on your shoulders. R’gngyk’s glory isn’t for everyone.
Maybe I wasn’t careful enough in deciding who was worthy.
Losing your stash to a twelve-year-old boy?
It’s carelessness, pure and simple. And you can’t even tell me when he found the pills or where he might have gone?
I’m not angry, and you were right to tell me, but I’m very disappointed in you, Morgan. ”