It looked real, and I only like fake whipped cream. As much as I liked the frosting, I again lamented the fact that Cassandra had shown up just as I was about to find out more from Jamie.
The doorbell rang again. Cassandra and Jamie both looked startled. I checked the time on my iPhone. This would have to be Douglas, and right on time as usual.
I hurried to the door, and sure enough, Douglas was standing there. "I have visitors," I whispered. This was getting to be a habit.
I led Douglas down to the hallway to the kitchen. Cassandra looked shocked. I figured it would have been a long time since she had seen two gorgeous guys in the one room. I turned to Douglas to introduce everyone, but was struck speechless by the look on his face.
I had never seen Douglas's countenance change too much throughout the time I had known him. He had always been Mr. Cool-As-A-Cucumber. Right now, he was looking like someone from an acting class practicing a different range of emotions - shock, horror, rage, surprise. Cassandra and Jamie noticed it too, for they hastily muttered their goodbyes and took off like bats out of hell. No one had even shaken hands with Douglass, let alone said, "Hello."
"You are the Great Cat, the avenger of the Gods, and the judge of Words, and the president of the sovereign chiefs and the governor of the sacred Circle. You are indeed... the Great Cat."
(Inscription on the Royal Tombs at Thebes)
Chapter 12.
I shut the front door and then went back to the kitchen. Douglas was sitting on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs. He looked more or less back to his usual self, but something was seething under the surface. Jealousy? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
"Who were they?" His tone was not exactly rude or abrupt, but he was quite edgy.
"Cassandra is the next door neighbor, and Jamie, um."
"Go on." Douglas looked very tense.
I didn't know how much I should tell Douglas. "Well, I don't know really. I met him at Aunt Beth's funeral."
"So, are you dating him?"
Could he be jealous? I simply said, "No."
"Well, what was he doing here? Has he asked you out? Is that woman his mother?"
I bristled at his demanding tone. "No, they don't know each other, and he isn't interested in me, not like that." I wondered if Jamie was a rake, the old English word used to describe immoral men such as members of the Order of the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe. After all, it was the right setting.
Douglas grew impatient. "Misty, what was he doing here?"
"He said I'm in danger," I blurted unwisely.
Douglas sat forward on the edge of his chair. "From whom? Misty, please tell me everything."
I figured I might as well. I still hadn't had time to process Jamie's disclosure about Douglas. I figured it was best to put everything out on the table and see where the cards would fall. When I get stressed, I fall into clichés.
I drew a deep breath. "Okay, his name is Jamie Smith and he says that people would kill to get the missing page. He says that those arcane symbols you told me about were on Paul Whitehead's urn but the urn was stolen hundreds of years ago, and that you are in the Black Lodge. He said you're one of those people who want the page." I stopped to study Douglas's reaction.
Douglas had lost his composure again and he looked furious. "I know the name Jamie Smith, and it's just one of the names he uses, by the way. Jamie Smith is one of the leaders of the Black Lodge. He also goes by the name of Jacob Westcott."
I didn't know whether to be concerned for my safety or disappointed that Douglas hadn't been jealous after all. However, I hadn't lost my common sense.
"Look, Douglas, I'm a journalist, a researcher. I know how to sift through evidence. You say Jamie is in the Black Lodge and out to harm me; Jamie says you are in the Black Lodge and out to harm me. I don't have any evidence either way about which one of you is telling the truth."
To my surprise, Douglas simply laughed. For some
The doorbell rang again. Cassandra and Jamie both looked startled. I checked the time on my iPhone. This would have to be Douglas, and right on time as usual.
I hurried to the door, and sure enough, Douglas was standing there. "I have visitors," I whispered. This was getting to be a habit.
I led Douglas down to the hallway to the kitchen. Cassandra looked shocked. I figured it would have been a long time since she had seen two gorgeous guys in the one room. I turned to Douglas to introduce everyone, but was struck speechless by the look on his face.
I had never seen Douglas's countenance change too much throughout the time I had known him. He had always been Mr. Cool-As-A-Cucumber. Right now, he was looking like someone from an acting class practicing a different range of emotions - shock, horror, rage, surprise. Cassandra and Jamie noticed it too, for they hastily muttered their goodbyes and took off like bats out of hell. No one had even shaken hands with Douglass, let alone said, "Hello."
"You are the Great Cat, the avenger of the Gods, and the judge of Words, and the president of the sovereign chiefs and the governor of the sacred Circle. You are indeed... the Great Cat."
(Inscription on the Royal Tombs at Thebes)
Chapter 12.
I shut the front door and then went back to the kitchen. Douglas was sitting on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs. He looked more or less back to his usual self, but something was seething under the surface. Jealousy? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
"Who were they?" His tone was not exactly rude or abrupt, but he was quite edgy.
"Cassandra is the next door neighbor, and Jamie, um."
"Go on." Douglas looked very tense.
I didn't know how much I should tell Douglas. "Well, I don't know really. I met him at Aunt Beth's funeral."
"So, are you dating him?"
Could he be jealous? I simply said, "No."
"Well, what was he doing here? Has he asked you out? Is that woman his mother?"
I bristled at his demanding tone. "No, they don't know each other, and he isn't interested in me, not like that." I wondered if Jamie was a rake, the old English word used to describe immoral men such as members of the Order of the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe. After all, it was the right setting.
Douglas grew impatient. "Misty, what was he doing here?"
"He said I'm in danger," I blurted unwisely.
Douglas sat forward on the edge of his chair. "From whom? Misty, please tell me everything."
I figured I might as well. I still hadn't had time to process Jamie's disclosure about Douglas. I figured it was best to put everything out on the table and see where the cards would fall. When I get stressed, I fall into clichés.
I drew a deep breath. "Okay, his name is Jamie Smith and he says that people would kill to get the missing page. He says that those arcane symbols you told me about were on Paul Whitehead's urn but the urn was stolen hundreds of years ago, and that you are in the Black Lodge. He said you're one of those people who want the page." I stopped to study Douglas's reaction.
Douglas had lost his composure again and he looked furious. "I know the name Jamie Smith, and it's just one of the names he uses, by the way. Jamie Smith is one of the leaders of the Black Lodge. He also goes by the name of Jacob Westcott."
I didn't know whether to be concerned for my safety or disappointed that Douglas hadn't been jealous after all. However, I hadn't lost my common sense.
"Look, Douglas, I'm a journalist, a researcher. I know how to sift through evidence. You say Jamie is in the Black Lodge and out to harm me; Jamie says you are in the Black Lodge and out to harm me. I don't have any evidence either way about which one of you is telling the truth."
To my surprise, Douglas simply laughed. For some
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