Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Mystery & Detective,
Witches,
Mystery Fiction,
Occult fiction,
Washington (State),
Divorced women,
Single mothers,
Women Mediums,
Tearooms,
O'Brien,
Emerald (Fictitious Character)
friend.” Joe stared out the side window, mute. As I turned onto Hyacinth Street, he let out a long sigh.
“Nate’s a fuckup, just like Dexter.” Joe never called his father by anything except his first name or “the old man.” “He doesn’t give a damn about anybody but himself. Ten to one, he’s been playing up to some sugar mama just to get a free trip, and when he’s over there, he’s going to find some snow bunny just out of high school to screw around with. That’s it, I’m done with the whole family, except Aunt Maggie. She’s the only one who has any common sense. She’s been more a mother to me than my own mother.”
I turned into the driveway and switched off the ignition. “Joe, there’s not much I can say. I can’t make it better. I can’t make them into what you wish they would be. But you have family. You have your aunt, you have me and the kids, and you have our friends. Harlow and Murray adore you; count them as your sisters and Jimbo and James as your brothers. Sometimes, we have to create the family we need.”
Even though I’d been happy as a child, at a young age I’d realized that Nanna was better suited to raise me than my mother. Klara was a career woman at heart, but I always knew she loved me, and with Nanna by my side, I felt complete. Rose, on the other hand, had turned to Grandma M. out of anger. She and Klara were still dancing around each other in a waltz of guilt and resentment.
Joe shrugged, wincing. “I guess you’re right. Well, Nate can go to hell. I’m just grateful to be alive, to be marrying you.” He edged himself out of the car and we went inside.
“Speaking of getting married, do you want to postpone the wedding? Your brother can’t make it and you were just shot—”
The look on his face was answer enough. “Are you crazy? Even if I’d taken the bullet smack in the shoulder, I’d have White Deer over at the hospital to marry us. Even if she had to dress like a nurse and sneak into my room. I’m not letting you slip through my fingers, Emerald. And incidentally, I’m okay with you keeping your last name, so tell Grandma M. to back off. She waxed long and hard on that subject during the party, trying to sympathize with me. I know she thinks I mind, but I don’t. It may be Roy’s name, but you should have the same last name as your kids.”
“And this is one of the many reasons I love you,” I said, settling him in on the sofa with the remote, a six-pack of Coke, a bag of pretzels, and the phone. “I’ve got errands to run,” I said. “You rest. And if any of my family calls, tell them I’ll talk to them tonight.”
He looked at me, suspicion clouding his eyes. “You aren’t trying to find out who shot me, are you?”
I gave him a long look. “Joe, you know perfectly well that I’m not about to let this go. The cops aren’t going to find much, that we can be sure of, unless the dude dropped a calling card out there and that’s pretty unlikely. But right now, I’m thinking about something else. Murray found her house trashed when she got home this morning.”
“What?” Joe straightened up.
“Her place was trashed, and I do mean ransacked. Thing is, nothing but a few pieces of lingerie were missing. And … we found a gift there.” I told him about the ring. “She doesn’t want Jimbo to know about it yet. She’s afraid he’ll lose it and hurt somebody.”
“Did she report it?”
“She promised me she would. But Joe, her whole place felt slimy. Icky, like something had crept in and nested.” I dropped into the recliner. “I’m worried about her. What if she’d been in the house?”
Joe shook his head. “Murray has a gun, Em, and she knows how to use it. She probably would have blown their head off. You can be sure she’s a lot better marksman than whoever took a potshot at me.”
Another thought had crossed my mind. “At the party, Mur got into it with Roy, too. Remember how rude he was to her? I wonder
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