Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I called Penn and asked her if I could meet with her early. She had time, so I told Dante we’d stop at her shop before going over to visit Holden. While Dante checked out Holden’s background, I peeked in on Orik.

“Hey, you ready for tonight?”

He nodded. Carson was in the bathroom. “Hey, Kyann, I need to ask you something. Can we go in your office?”

I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“I’d rather talk about this privately.”

“Sure, come on.” I motioned for him to follow me. We headed back to my office. “Shut the door behind you.” Orik seldom ever asked for a private audience. He was a good egg, with both brains and brawn, and he was also a happy family man. He and Hilda had two sets of twins—all girls—and he called them his little Valkyries. The younger girls were four, and the older pair were eight.

Orik sat down on the opposite side of my desk. “Thanks, boss.”

“What’s up?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the desk. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…it’s…” He sighed, then said, “Hilda’s pregnant again.”

“Congratulations!” I clapped, beaming at him. “I know you guys love kids—wait, is everything okay? Is Hilda okay?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s that she needs to be on bed rest the whole pregnancy. She can do part of her job remotely, but not all, so she’s on paid leave but things are going to be tight, and I need to know that my job’s secure. We need the insurance.” A tremor of doubt underscored his words.

“You’re doing fine. I’m not about to let you go.” I hesitated for a moment. “You need to ask for a raise, don’t you?”

Guilt flashed over his face. “I wouldn’t except…”

“Hold on. Let me see.” I turned to my computer and brought up the human resources screen. Only Dante, me, and Sophia could access the software. I opened Orik’s file and looked at the last time we’d given out raises. I then flipped through everybody else’s file. It looked like it had been a couple years. Since nobody mentioned it, I hadn’t even thought about it, which made me feel like Scrooge. I then brought up our financials. I turned back to Orik. “Give me five, okay?”

He nodded. I headed out the door and over to Dante’s office. He looked up as I entered the room and closed the door behind me.

“Hey, we need to hand out some raises. We’re doing better than ever the past year or so, and…Orik’s wife is expecting again. You know it’s going to be twins.”

“When’s the last time we raised anybody’s salary?” Dante asked.

“Almost three years. We forgot to do evaluations last year. Anyway, I wanted to apprise you of the situation.”

“You don’t need my approval,” he said. “I’m a partner but you’re the majority owner. Do what you feel is best.”

I nodded. “I’m comfortable right now. What about you?”

He shrugged. “More money is always nice, but I’d rather see the others get it if we have to make choices.”

“Right,” I said. “That’s what I was thinking. I think we can swing four percent across the board, and give everybody a bonus. The holidays are coming up, we can label it a holiday bonus. Are you good with that?” I asked.

“How much of a bonus?”

“Well, we have three employees. What about a thousand each? It seems like a lot but we can afford it this year.” I waited until Dante agreed, then I headed out to Sophia. She glanced up as I sat down beside her desk. “Hand me the checkbook, please.”

She handed me the office checkbook. I wrote out three checks, then asked for envelopes. She handed them to me, and I motioned for her to follow me.

As I passed Carson in the hall, I said, “Meet us in the breakroom.” I motioned for Sophia to follow him as I peeked into Dante’s office. “Come on.” Lastly, I grabbed Orik from my office and we gathered with the others in the breakroom.

“I don’t want to spend too much time on this,” I said, “since we have so much going on. But I thought you’d like to know that Dante and I’ve decided the three of you deserve a raise. We’re giving you a four percent raise, along with a thousand-dollar holiday bonus.” I handed out the checks. “Orik, did you want to tell the others?”

He beamed. “Thanks, Kyann. This will help.” He turned to the others. “Hilda’s pregnant again, and yes, it’s another set of twins. Daughters. But she’s on bedrest this time.”

“Whoa…more girls?” Dante asked.

Orik ducked his head. “It’s my fate to be surrounded by beautiful ladies. Yes, two more girls. Hilda’s due in May this time.”

Sophia stared at him. “Damn, you guys are fertile. She’s going to need help eventually, you know.”

“We’ve already thought about that. Her mother will be staying with us from April through July. That’s not going to be so much fun, but it will help us out a lot, so I’m not going to complain.” He shuddered.

I’d met Hilda’s mother once, at a party at their house. She was formidable, though that was an understatement. She’d keep the household running smoothly.

“Congrats,” Carson said. “Better you than me.”

Carson wasn’t much into relationships. I didn’t ever remember him mentioning even having a date, let alone a serious relationship. He’d often mentioned that he preferred computers to people.

“Oh, I’m thrilled. I love my children and I love our life, but it’s starting to feel like we’re expanding faster than we ever planned to. Hilda was on birth control this time, but the doc says my boys are strong swimmers, and her girls provide a hospitable environment.” He laughed. “Hilda wanted eight children. I wanted four. We’ve compromised and once the babies come and everything’s okay, I’ll be getting snipped.”

Carson coughed and Sophia chuckled, but we were all close enough to be comfortable talking about personal things.

“Has Hilda agreed to that?” Dante asked.

Orik shrugged. “She said whatever I want. She’s content with leaving it at six. Though it’s going to be seven against one, but I can handle that.” He didn’t sound disappointed. In fact, he looked proud as could be. “Thank you for this,” he said, holding up the envelope.

I nodded. “I wish it could be more for all of you, but next year, we’ll do our best to raise your salaries again.”

Dante glanced at his watch. “Hey, shouldn’t we be going? We need to stop at Penelope’s shop, and then go meet Holden White.”

We finished up, and got ready to head out.

Moonbeams & Meadows was located on Aurora Avenue North, near the cross street of North 140 th Street. It was tucked away in a little strip mall, near a Thai restaurant, and a nail salon. All around were car dealers, but even though the area felt industrial, the energy was clear—though busy—and the rent wasn’t bad.

Penn was behind the counter, wearing a lavender dress with black trim, and she had on chunky heeled pumps. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a big bow, and she was bustling around, taking care of a customer who was buying what looked like a jumble of herbs and candles.

“Hey,” she said when she saw us. “Come in.”

As the customer left, she flipped the sign to ‘closed for an hour’ and locked the door.

“You sure you want to close just because we’re here?” I asked. I knew how precious every dollar was.

“I can’t very well focus on the mandrake root if I’m always watching for customers. Have a seat—the table to the side works.” She pointed out a round table to one side with four chairs around it.

The air smelled faintly of frankincense, and the energy felt squeaky clean and protected. Penn knew her magic, all right. She poured herself a cup of coffee and settled down at the table with Dante and me.

“So,” she said. “Show me.”

I took out the root, wrapped in black cloth, and set it on the table. “Warning before you touch it—the root seems to have gotten tainted. We’d like to know anything you pick up from it.”

She motioned for us to sit down as she carried a large crystal ball over to the table and settled behind it. Then, unwrapping the mandrake, she slowly picked it up.

“Oh man, bad juju,” she said, closing her fist around it. With one hand on the crystal ball and one hand holding the root, she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

“I see…deception. Lies. Hidden agendas. The root was used…by someone not its owner. The root was twisted—and that sent its owner into a paranoid panic. Demon energy, all right. But not just any demon—this was tormented by a major demon. Hatred and chaos…” She paused, as the energy thickened around us.

Dante glanced at me, and his nostrils flared. Wolf shifters often had a problem with magic. Another moment and Penn slumped deeper into the trance that came upon her.

“There are layers here, secrets being revealed. Things are not as they seem. She tried to keep them from finding out about her, but there are eyes and ears everywhere. They’re coming…and she knew it. She wanted to put an end to it. Her death was no accident, but an accident it seems.”

She shivered and opened her eyes. “This must be destroyed.”

“Can you do it?” I asked.

She nodded. “I can, but you have to let me do so now. The mandrake has become a portal to the UnderRealms.” She stared at it silently. “Poor mandrake—they feel, you know. They feel our pain and our joy. And this mandrake felt so much pain when its owner was killed.”

I had been recording everything she said, and now, Dante and I stared at one another. More secrets, more clues, more confusion. We thanked Penn, who had a tarot client coming in, and told her we’d see her on Saturday, then silently left the building.

We didn’t talk much on the way over to Alf’s. We agreed to save our thoughts for later so we could focus on the task at hand.

Alf Lindstrom lived over on the Eastside. The greater Seattle metropolitan area included several counties on both sides of Lake Washington, topping out at about four million people. The Eastside meant east of the lake—cities like Bellevue, Kirkland, Woodinville, Redmond, and others. While still highly developed, they weren’t quite as dense and included more rural areas.

There were a number of urban farms scattered around, as well as forested areas with hiking trails and campgrounds. Snoqualmie Falls, where they had filmed the introduction to the show Twin Peaks, was less than an hour away, with its picturesque falls that swelled into a thundering downpour during the rainy season.

Alf lived out in Redmond, near the end of a dead-end street—39 th Way. His house backed up to a greenbelt area. As we parked in the neighbor’s driveway, I saw that Alf was home—or at least, there was a car in the driveway. He hadn’t mentioned a wife, so I wasn’t sure if he lived alone.

Holden White’s house was gorgeous—a two story monstrosity that somehow managed to blend in with all the trees so it didn’t look like the typical cookie-cutter McMansions that littered the entire region.

As Dante and I stepped out of the car, Alf caught sight of us. He’d been outside when we pulled in, and now he saw us. He waved at us, rushing over to Dante’s sedan.

“Are you going to arrest him?” he asked, all too eager.

“No,” I said. “We’re going to talk to him. Besides, we aren’t cops. We don’t arrest people—at least not in the usual sense of the word. Now go back inside. If he sees us talking to you, he might not want to give us any information.”

“Right! Okay, I’ll scram.” Alf took off at a jog for his house.

I glanced at Dante. “Oh brother.”

“You can say that again,” he said. “Let’s go.”

I pulled my jacket tighter against a sudden gust of wind that swept past. “Brr. It’s getting chilly.”

“It’s November,” Dante said with a laugh. “But you’re right. It almost smells like snow.”

I sniffed the air. “Almost, but not quite yet. I’d say give it a week or two. But I think a big thunderstorm’s coming in.”

We climbed the steps to the three-story house, stopping to ring the bell. After two more rings, the door opened, and a man who reminded me of a lumberjack model peeked out. He was too ‘stately’ to be an actual lumberjack, but he had the slightly scruffy hair and five o’clock shadow down pat. He was also muscled to hell and back, though he was wearing a pair of suit pants and a sweater vest over a button-down shirt.

“Holden White?” I asked.

“Yes, may I help you?” He flashed us a curious look.

“I’m Kyann Sarasan, and this is Dante Franco. We’re from Shadow Blade Investigations, and we’re wondering if you’d be able to answer a few questions for us.” I smiled and held out my hand.

He stared at it for a moment, then grudgingly shook it. “How do you do? You know who I am, so I think I can skip the introduction for the moment. Please come in,” he said, standing back so we could enter the house. “Let me guess. You’re here because of my next-door neighbor with a bad case of paranoia. Am I right?”

Taken aback, I said, “Your neighbor Alf Lindstrom asked us to investigate a theft, so we thought we’d ask you if you noticed anything suspicious.”

Holden led us into a large living room that looked all too much like a hotel lobby. The sofa and chairs had that ivory linen look that hotel furniture had, and everything mirrored the bland minimalistic look, right down to the vases of white mums, the sparsely covered tables free of bric-a-brac, immaculately dusted bookshelves with every book lined up precisely. It seemed impossible that a child lived in this house, unless they were locked up in their bedroom.

“So, let me guess. This is about Alf’s missing figurine collection?” he said, offering us a seat on the sofa.

I gingerly sat down, hoping I didn’t have anything on that might stain the ivory linen. “Well, yes. Since you mention it, we’re investigating the theft for him. He mentioned that you wanted to buy them for your son, and you offered a lowball amount for them.”

Holden sat down, crossing one knee over the other and sitting back in the recliner. “Alf Lindstrom has always hated me since I moved in. I resurrected the HOA, which had lapsed, and he was forced to clean up his yard and paint his shed. He resents me for that.”

“I see,” I said, noting that down. “Did you do it with him specifically in mind? I mean, was it because of his yard and shed?”

“Not really, though those were factors in my decision to revive it. His grass was knee deep and a fire hazard, and his shed was the color of toxic waste. Neon toxic waste. I felt like it would provide the neighborhood with more security because when everyone has to meet once a month, it gives a certain sense of community, and the crime rate here is pretty bad.” Holden shrugged. “Alf took it personally.”

“What about your visit? Where’s your son, by the way?”

“It’s none of your business as to where he’s at, but I’ll tell you. He’s with his mother. He stays with me on weekends. And as to the collection, well, we went over there to return the lawn mower I borrowed because mine’s in the shop. One of the blades broke on a rock that I didn’t see. My son saw the figurines and wanted to play with them. Alf yelled for him to keep away from them, so I offered to buy them. I admit, I was being a bit smug—I had no idea they were worth that much. I wanted to goad him. I knew that he’d say no.” Holden smiled, just enough to see his teeth. They were so white they were blinding.

“You said you didn’t know how much they were worth,” Dante asked. “When did you find out?”

“When Alf showed up on my doorstep a few days later, accusing me of taking them. I offered to let him search my house but he stormed off, calling me names.” Holden shrugged. “You can search the house, as well. In fact, if you want, I’ll call my ex-wife and you can search her house, too, to see if they’re in my son’s room.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, Alf seems to think you might have sold them online.”

Holden let out a laugh. “Right. Like I need a few grand in cash.” He leaned forward. “Let me tell you something. I was one of the first employees with Macro Technology. I got in on the ground floor and was given a large amount of stock as one of my benefits. By the time I retired, about twelve years ago, I had over four million in stock alone. Not to mention a tidy pension, and everything I saved that didn’t go to Irene in the divorce. I don’t need petty change.”

He was telling the truth. You could tell when someone had nothing to hide, and Holden had nothing to hide.

“Okay,” I said. “As a matter of courtesy would you show us around and give us Irene’s number?” Even though I believed him, we needed to check out his story. But I knew it wasn’t Holden that had stolen Alf’s figurines.

“Of course,” he said. “Oh, and my guess is that if you examine Alf’s house, you might find them hidden away. I don’t put it past him to pull an insurance scam. And you’ve got to believe he has those figurines insured. He’s no fool.”

By the time we left, I had a sneaking suspicion that our main suspect was the very one who had reported the crime in the first place. I wasn’t sure why he tried to insist it was Holden, though I suspected it might be to throw some doubt on Holden’s character and muck up his life for a bit. As we excused ourselves, I had already decided to drop the case.