Black hat 8 gray seas, p.8
Black Hat 8 - Gray Seas, page 8
“She’s okay with the mature content?” Marita pursed her lips. “She seems fine, but…”
“I appreciate you worrying about her,” I said, and I meant it. “I lose sleep wondering if I did the right thing. If I’m doing the right thing. But she had no say in how…” She died. “She deserves to decide for herself what she wants to do with her life, and this is what she’s chosen.”
“Rue is careful to frame out time for Colby to be a kid, but it’s a tough balance to strike when Colby is always learning but never maturing. She bumps into that dividing wall more and more often. We do what we can to encourage her dedication while accommodating her limitations.”
“Colby has no limitations.” I snorted at the very notion. “Except maybe at the carnival in front of one of those you must be this tall to ride sticks.”
“I didn’t mean to call your parenting into question,” Marita apologized. “You’ve done a great job with her.”
“Yes,” Asa agreed. “She does, though she’ll never let us praise her for it.”
From what I could tell, I wasn’t owed a pat on the head for doing the right thing for the first time in my life. I wish I had met Colby sooner so she could have given me a swift kick in the pants faster. But I also wished I had never met her at all, because that would mean she was alive and home and happy.
“Do you have directions?” I changed the subject. “Where exactly are we going?”
“See what I mean?” Asa told Marita then addressed me. “We’re going to Eat.”
“You mean first?” I checked my phone, but none of the messages were pressing. “But then where?”
“To Eat.”
“I can tell I’m missing an important distinction here.”
“It’s a restaurant,” Derry informed me. “Well, sort of. It’s more of a shack, really.”
“You’ve been to Ogunquit?” That drew Asa’s attention. “What can you tell us about it?”
“The harbor is full of fishing boats, which you can book for an experience, and the lobster is the freshest you’ll ever taste. There’s a small downtown area. Maybe six shops and two restaurants. There’s Eat and Sea Shanty, which is a more upscale option for tourists.”
“Tell me more about these shops.” Clay inserted himself into our conversation. “Anything interesting?”
Knowing Clay, he was hoping for the miracle of a wig boutique to spring out of the ether for his shopping pleasure, but I doubted a tiny Maine town would dedicate one of its six businesses to his obsession.
“There’s a jewelry store, a toy store, a pottery shop, a candy store, and—”
“You have our full attention.” Clay had unhooked Colby as well. “Tell us about this candy store.”
“They make saltwater taffy, chocolate-covered everything, and lollipops.”
Avarice glittered in Colby’s eyes at the word lollipop, and I made a mental note to let her choose a few.
Not because what Marita said bugged me. There was nothing anyone could say I hadn’t thought about myself. But because Colby did deserve to be a kid, and that meant sugar highs and bad meal decisions.
Although, I’ll be the first to admit both of those were harder with a child who drank liquid sugar to live.
The backseat got invested in the candy aspect of our upcoming stop, but I kept reflecting on the poison and the unsub. The unknown subject. Could the dumpster dude, as Clay called him, be fae? Had he given the black witches the rare herb? To what end? Why kill the agents? They hadn’t even put up a fight.
None of it made sense. A bomb? Straightforward. The poisoning? Not so much.
The facts, as we knew them, didn’t mesh. Nothing, except my team, and fine, me, connected them.
But what were the odds two different entities decided to make a run at us on the same day?
Pretty good, really, now that I thought about it. Okay, scratch that. Time to forget the who and why and focus on how. For not one but two groups to know I was coming to the office today, when I usually worked remotely, and to be there waiting on us, meant we had a leak.
Honestly?
Had we been playing Mystic Seas, our ship would have sunk by now.
Outside of Ogunquit, we dumped Derry and Marita, leaving them to walk in together like a couple enjoying a beautiful sunset on their way to a romantic dinner. I would have kicked Clay out too, to widen our search grid, but Nan would recognize him. Hard to miss a slab of muscle walking down the street.
And, honestly, we all knew he wasn’t going to split from our core group. Golems followed the food.
Eat was, as promised, a shack. A clever, tourist trap one. The exterior leaned, and the roof buckled, as if the building would fall in after a stiff breeze. But it had survived Maine winters and life on the harbor. It wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, as evidenced by its pristine—if rustic—interior.
A tiny blonde with big gray eyes came to our table and took our order.
Lobster rolls. Lobster rolls. And more lobster rolls.
That was all they served. Literally the only thing on the menu. Each holding a quarter pound of meat.
The rolls were baked fresh daily, the lobster brought in off the boats outside, and they gave the option of garnishing with butter or mayo. I say gave the option, because it said so right on the sign, but the server judged us.
Oh, how she judged us.
When she took her pad to the back, she and the other waitress glanced at us over their shoulders.
“What did we do wrong?” I wasn’t sure she even asked what we wanted to drink. “They’re horrified.”
“It’s the whole butter or mayo thing,” Clay explained. “It’s a regional preference, and opinions run hot.”
“Served hot with melted butter,” Asa read from the menu, “or cold with mayonnaise.”
“I have no opinion.” I rolled a shoulder. “Lobster doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.”
“Blasphemy.” Clay shoved back from the table. “Lobster is the food of the gods.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Last week, the food of the gods had been deep-fried corn kernels tossed in butter and parmesan.
“Back me up, Ace,” he pleaded with his partner. “Tell her the truth.”
“Lobster is the food of the gods,” Asa deadpanned, knocking his knee into mine under the table.
“Well, if Asa says it—” I fluttered my lashes at him, “—then it must be true.”
“I take it back.” Clay cupped a hand over his eyes. “Being right isn’t worth this.”
Footsteps stomped up to our table, but I kept my eyes to myself so as not to anger the waitress further.
After she thumped down a tray with ten rolls, she scurried off without asking about our drinks.
“I’ll handle it.” Clay smoothed a hand over his blue-black wig cut in long layers that framed his face. “I’ll see if I can’t wrangle some chips too.”
“Is that allowed?” I was serious. “I don’t know how much more side-eye I can take.”
Snickering at me, he left to join the waitresses, who were back to judging us.
Within seconds, their postures softened a bit. Within a minute, they were smiling at him.
“It’s disgusting how quickly he can have anyone eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“He’s had a lot of time to practice his charm.” Asa divvied up the food. “He’s also a natural flirt.”
When I saw the girls rushing to fill our drink order, and how Clay took up one of their trays and encouraged them to set the glasses on it, I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes. He was shameless.
“Iced tea for Ace.” Clay served him. “Iced tea for Dollface.” He served me. “And sweet tea for me.”
“Sweet tea?” I gaped at him. “How did you manage that?”
This far north, you had to order unsweetened tea and hope they stocked sugar packets. Even then, the two didn’t mix well cold, and the result was…not what any Southern girl would drink given any other choice.
“Colby.” He was smugger than smug. “She suggested I start carrying one of these.”
Holding up a palm size squirt bottle, he pointed to the handwritten label.
“Simple syrup.” I stared at him. “You…”
“…are a genius.” He tossed the bottle to me. “I’m aware.”
“Colby,” Asa corrected him, “is the genius.”
“I get a bump in IQ from osmosis,” he countered. “Now be nice, or I’ll leave you both to suffer.”
“We apologize.” I quickly fixed our drinks. “We’re grateful for you sharing your brilliance with us.”
“That’s what I thought.” He sniffed. “Hey.” His arm shot toward me. “What are you doing?”
“Co-opting this.” I put the bottle in my pocket. “Thanks.”
When his mouth fell open, I shoved a lobster roll in until he was forced to chew or choke.
Unsurprised when he swallowed it nearly whole, I took a bite of Asa’s food and a sip of his drink then sat back and waited to see if I would die. I gave it a solid minute, about as long as it had taken the agents to start twitching on the asphalt, then declared his meal safe for consumption.
Amused, he let me do what my anxiety demanded, then kissed the mayo off my lips in thanks.
Out the window beside our table, I spotted Derry and Marita playing tourists as they cruised the shops.
The three of us people-watched and ate, searching for signs of trouble.
“Hi again.”
Turning from the view, I got an eyeful of our waitress sizing Clay up like a fresh catch ready for the scale.
“I asked Marsha about the customer you mentioned.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “She said the woman called in an order around two and swung by to pick it up fifteen minutes later.”
Given the quaint coastal vibe and lack of parking spaces, I figured that meant ten minutes on foot max.
Wherever Nan was holed up, if she was still here, it was less than a quarter hour from Eat.
“Thank you, Casey.” He hit her with his brightest smile. “You’ve been a big help.”
“Anything for the FBI.” Her cheeks flushed under his attention. “Maybe I could help more…later?”
“As much as I would appreciate that,” he broke it to her gently, “we’re leaving town after we eat.”
A flirt he might be, but he was faithful, and he was all-in with Moran. Or trying very hard to be.
“Oh.” Her gaze dipped to the floorboards. “Do you think you’ll pass through again?”
“If I get a hankering for the best lobster roll in Maine,” he hedged, “I know where to go.”
With a finger wave, she returned to the register, where she and her coworker tittered at him.
Unable to resist temptation, I rested my chin on my fist. “I wonder how Moran feels about lobster.”
“Shut.” He hit me in the forehead with a chunk of meat. “Up.”
About to return fire, I paused when Asa set his hand on my thigh and jerked his chin toward the window.
Derry and Marita were loitering outside the candy store. Empty-handed. With the lovey-dovey act dialed from the five or six when they walked into town up to a solid ten.
While it was possible they had already plundered the treats and eaten what they bought before exiting the building, I didn’t see a bag or trash to indicate they had made a purchase. That, more than the fake cooing over one another, was suspicious enough for me to rise.
“I still have three rolls left,” Clay protested, “and you only ate half of yours.”
“You guys stay put.” I bent forward, intending to kiss Asa’s cheek. “I’ll go check in with the Mayhews.”
“Rue.” He caught my ponytail, twisted it around his fist. “You have to let me off light duty eventually.”
“Stop almost dying, and I’ll quit hovering.” I linked my arms around his neck and kissed him until a growl rose up his throat, and his hands drifted from my waist down to my butt. Then I leapt back, laughing as he tensed to chase after me. “Back in ten.”
Miracle of miracles, he let me go, and I almost instantly regretted not bringing him with me.
As unlikely as it was I would be singled out for an attack this soon after we arrived in town, I expected more pushback from one or both of them. Maybe they were finally trusting me to take care of myself?
“I smell turtles,” a boisterous voice announced from behind me. “The pecan-caramel kind.”
So much for trust.
Slowing my pace, I waited until Clay appeared next to my right elbow and Asa posted up on my left.
With help from his waitress minions, Clay had shoved all his food into a to-go bag he clutched in one hand while stuffing his face with the other. Asa, poor thing, had been suckered into holding his drink.
As we drew attention from passersby, I gave up on stealth and approached the Mayhews outright.
“See that?” Marita indicated a set of wooden stairs leading to the upper floor of a building across the street. The pottery shop, if I remembered correctly, but I couldn’t see the sign from here. “It’s a VacayNStay. There’s a sign downstairs with the listing information.”
“The landlord owns the pottery shop too,” Derry confirmed my assumption. “We caught a whiff of black magic and followed it to the stairs. He trailed us and asked if we wanted the room. He said the nice girl who rented it last night left this morning, and it’s available.”
The lodgings were much closer than anticipated, just steps away. “Any idea where she’s heading next?”
“He let us in to look around, and Marita found a pamphlet from downstairs on Salem.”
“A black witch interested in touring Salem?” I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “How original.”
“There’s a lot of dark energy there,” Clay warned in a serious voice. “The stain left from innocent victims who lost their lives, the descendants of those victims come to pay their respects, the macabre curiosity of humans and other paranormals. They also get white witch pilgrims drawn to the area by their magic.”
“That’s what makes Salem dangerous for white witches.” I curled my hands into fists, hating how saliva pooled in my mouth at the prospect of coming across one. I could control myself but not my biology. “Anywhere white witches flock, black witches will hunt.”
“We can give Ogunquit the night.” Asa noticed the tension riding me, but he let it go, and I was thankful. “Colby will tell us if she gets a hit on Nan’s credit card.”
“Yeah.” I glanced back at Clay. “Are you going to feed our friends, or do they need to get their own?”
The paper bag crumpled in his hand, and he shoved the rest of his half-eaten roll into his mouth like they might snatch it if he didn’t gulp it down fast enough. But he forced his fingers to open, eventually, and his arm to extend toward them.
“Here.” He sighed over the greasy bag. “They’re hot butters.”
“My favorite.” Derry accepted it with a rapturous inhale. “Where can we get a drink?”
Clay, whose hands were now empty, took his cup from Asa and slurped before guiding them to Eat.
“I’ll hang back with Rue,” Marita called to their departing backs. “We’ll grab snacks for the trip.”
That caught Clay’s attention, and he called out, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“Pretty sure he doesn’t like me at all,” she whispered to me, “but I understand jealousy. It’s hard being this awesome. Not everyone gets it, and not everyone can handle it.”
Linking her arm through mine, Marita dragged me toward the candy store, but Asa stood frozen.
“What is it?” I threw on the brakes. “What’s wrong?”
“Mule spun yarn.” His entire being was locked in on the shop next door. “The supplier is local.”
“I’ll take him.” Marita released me in exchange for him. “Just to be on the safe side.”
“What about Rue?” Asa peeled his gaze from the window. “She’s in as much danger as I am.”
“Chocolate will protect me.” I waved to Clay as he and Derry exited Eat, indicating for them to join me. “And so will that bottomless pit of a stomach we call a golem.”
“Go, go, go.” Marita shoved me toward the doors. “You can’t let him beat you to the good stuff.”
Avoiding another push that would send me stumbling into the glass, I let myself in to begin shopping.
“Hello,” a grandmotherly woman with a bright green smock greeted me. “How can I help you?”
“I’ll take a pound of everything in the case.” I might as well place Clay’s order too. “And two lollipops.”
“That’s a lot of chocolate.” She bustled around the rear to begin weighing the treats. “Are you sure?”
“It’s for a road trip,” I explained, examining the saltwater taffy. “Trust me, it’ll all get eaten.”
As I poked around the store, pausing to admire the choppy surf outside their window, I experienced the prickling sensation of eyes on my spine. I spun in time to avoid the garrote the older woman had been about to lower over my head and kicked her in the gut, knocking her into the candy display.
One touch and I felt it. Black magic. We had lucked onto the reason for Nan’s visit.
“This explains why Nan was in town.” I dodged her swing. “Visiting old friends or making new ones?”
Magic rippled around her, smoothing her skin and lightening her hair, taking thirty years off her age.
“She warned me about you.” The cashier backed to the door and flipped the switch to lock it. “The goody-two-shoes black witch.” She cast an obfuscation spell that darkened the windows. “How did you find me?”
Hael would freeze over before I confessed to Colby’s involvement, but I didn’t need a catchy quip.
I had backup. In the form of a pissed-off golem who sailed through the locked door as glass rained down around him. And a warg with a cupholder full of tea, who stepped in, set the drinks on the counter, then leapt onto the black witch’s back with a gleeful howl that ripped out of his human throat.
The witch toppled, crushed under Derry’s weight, and landed on her hands and knees.
