Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Our next appointment showed up right on time. Rowan Leaf breezed through the conference room door like a leaf darting in the wind. From the gauzy dress to the paisley scarf that wrapped around her head to the fringe suede jacket she wore, everything about Rowan shouted hippie-wannabe, and the clothes swamped her frame. She had that tall and gangly ugly beauty that so many too-thin, ultra-tall models had.

“Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to a chair at the table. For Rowan, only Dante and I were interviewing her.

She slid into the chair as Sophia handed me her intake file, then said, “Would you like some coffee or tea? A pastry”

Rowan shook her head. “No, but water would be good. I don’t eat sugar or white flour.”

Sophia nodded. “Would you like your water with ice?”

“No, room temperature is fine.”

As soon as Sophia left the room, I glanced at Dante, who gave me a nod to begin. “Do you mind if we record the meeting for accuracy’s sake?” I reached for the recorder but stopped when Rowan gave me an abrupt frown.

“I’d rather you don’t. I don’t want a record that I’ve been here.” She pointed to the file folder. “In fact, I’d rather that you didn’t keep any record that I’ve talked to you.”

Oh boy, one of those . Ten to one, she was a conspiracy theorist of some sort. They were usually the ones that distrusted any records being kept. Why, I didn’t know. Maybe they thought we were affiliated with the government, though we weren’t. Even when I promised them that we kept a tight rein over who had access to any recordings or file notes, it didn’t seem to make a difference. It made me wonder why they bothered coming to us in the first place.

“I’m sorry, but we have to. We can’t do our job without taking notes and keeping information handy,” I said.

“But…” She turned to Dante and turned on the charm. “Can’t you make an exception? I really need your help.” She turned on a pout. “I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me.”

Dante gave me a sideways glance that said ‘help.’

“We can’t make an exception, and since I have the final decision, I’m sorry. Unless you agree to the fact that we take notes and we keep them, we can’t help you.” It occurred to me that the fact that she was trying to use her sexuality to influence the case, it was probably better off that we avoid her.

Rowan narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?” She turned to Dante again. “Can’t you change her mind? Who owns this company?” Her demeanor instantly turned hostile and the willowy grace vanished as she leaned forward.

“Kyann owns the company and I agree with her,” he said, giving her a frosty look.

“Has my boyfriend hired you to keep you from helping me?” She turned up the volume, looking outraged.

Yep, she was trouble.

I closed the file folder. “I’m afraid we can’t help you, Ms. Leaf. You’ll have to find someone else to take your case. We’re overbooked as it is.” As I stood, she jumped up and grabbed her purse.

“You can’t refuse me! I’m a customer and the customer is always right.”

“You may be a client, but you’re not our client. I can refuse you, and I am . As the owner of Shadow Blade Investigations, I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, for any reason. And flirting with my employee will get you nowhere.”

She huffed. “I am outraged?—”

“Dante, ask Orik to step into here, please.” I wanted her out of the office, and on our watch-list. Dante jumped up and exited the room. I turned back to Rowan. “If you’re truly concerned about your boyfriend, you need to be polite to the person who might be able to help you. That’s the best advice I can give you at this point.”

“But…” She paused, glancing back at the door.

I had the sudden feeling she was lying about something. At that moment, my phone jangled. I glanced at it and saw that Dante had texted me.

i realized, that woman’s been watching me for awhile. i see her at the gym and the past few weeks, she’s always there when i go to workout. i have an odd feeling about this.

I glanced over at Rowan, suspicious. “So, Rowan, where do you live? Does your boyfriend live in town?” I tried to keep my voice casual.

But she narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to know? You’re not going to take my case and you won’t let Dante help me?—”

Bingo . If she really wanted our help, she would think I was reconsidering and she’d answer me. I had worked with too many weirdos to ignore the signs of a stalker.

“Dante is my business partner, but yes, I’m the primary owner. Now, I suggest you leave, Rowan. We have a busy day and I’m sure you have other things you need to do.”

She flounced to the door, but then stopped and turned back. “Dante doesn’t love you, you know.”

So, Dante was right. She had a thing for him and was looking for a way to get to him.

Orik came in at that moment, catching the last of the conversation. He gave me a guarded look.

“Orik, please escort Ms. Leaf out of the building and make sure she leaves the parking lot. If she resists, call the police and have her trespassed.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Rowan said. “Can I say goodbye to Dante?”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” I said.

“Miss? Come with me,” Orik said, but the way he said it, it wasn’t question, it was a command. She flinched, then followed him out.

A moment later, I followed and stopped by Sophia’s desk. Dante was nowhere to be seen and I assumed he was hiding out in his office. I texted him once Orik led Rowan out the door, and he joined us as I was talking to Sophia.

“Do you have the security camera footage of her entering the office?” I asked. We kept security cameras all around the office because of cases like this one.

“Yes, I do. You want me to print out the best pictures of her?” Sophia asked.

“Yeah, and save them in jpg format, too.” I turned to Dante. “You have a stalker. You might want to change up the times you go to the gym and, while we’re at it, Sophia, did she at least give you her address?”

“She gave me an address, but I’m not sure if it’s accurate.” She opened the file folder. “So, it was all a lie? About the boyfriend?”

I nodded. “I’m positive. I think when Dante entered the room, it threw her off and she started to spiral. When I started asking her if we could record the intake interview, she probably realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep the lies straight and so dug in her heels.”

“She can’t have all her ducks in a row, not if she assumes I don’t recognize her from the gym. She’s never talked to me, but I’ve noticed her there several times, and she’s never really working out. She’ll be on a treadmill, puttering around, or sitting on a bench with a towel around her shoulders, but I never see her actually exercising. And every time I’ve noticed her, she’s been watching me.” Dante looked over Sophia’s shoulder as she screen shotted the best frames of Rowan’s image.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked.

“I wasn’t sure it was anything to worry about,” he said. “I should have listened to my intuition. I’ll start using my apartment’s gym,” he said. “It’s pretty good, and I can go down there at night without having to drive across town.”

“I think you should file a report with the police,” I said. “I know they can’t—and won’t—do anything for now, but get it on record. And we can add in what happened with her today.”

Dante shook his head. “I doubt they’d even take the report.”

“It’s worth a try,” I said. “At least tell Destiny.”

He sighed. “All right, I’ll talk to her.”

“Excuse me, but your 11:15 should be here, soon. I had no idea Rowan was going to be such a problem.” Sophia tapped her keyboard. “Pictures sent to everyone in the office, and I’ve filed them in our records.”

“It’s not your fault she was a loon.” I stood, glancing at my watch. “All right, let’s get ready for the next one. Hopefully he won’t be a problem.”

Alf Lindstrom turned out to be the opposite of Rowan. His insistence on not talking about the theft till he was in the appointment was less because he was paranoid, and more because he was embarrassed.

“I can’t believe my neighbor stole my action figure collection,” he said. “I think he took it for his kid. He gives the kid anything he wants.”

“Action figures?” I asked. Alf seemed like a blue-collar guy whose idea of a good time was sitting with a beer, watching football. But according to him, he was an avid gamer, he farmed game gold and sold it on Game-Go, an online market place specializing in gaming supplies, in-game currency, and other various commodities.

“It’s a huge business,” he said. “I make a lot of money. And my figurine collection is worth over ten thousand dollars. But it vanished last week, after Holden White and his son visited my gaming room. The kid is twelve, and he immediately gravitated toward the figurines.”

“Does the father know how much they’re worth?” Dante asked.

“I doubt it,” Alf said. “When I told him to leave them alone, his father tried to buy them for two hundred dollars. I told him forget it. He tried to make light of it but the kid was whining nonstop. They left after awhile, and I thought it was over. But I came home from the store the next day and the figurines were gone. I called a buddy of mine who works on the force, and he told me they’re so overloaded that, even if I file a report, they won’t do anything about it.”

“Do you have a list of the figurines that are missing? And are there any other people that you think might have done this? We can’t rule out somebody else stealing them.”

Alf gave us a list of the figurines that had been stolen, then a couple names of potential suspects, and by noon, we had everything we needed, including a big fat retainer. He wasn’t a cheapskate, that was for sure.

As we walked him out, I let out a long sigh. Two cases out of three wasn’t bad for a morning’s work.

After lunch, I prepared to head for Windchime Magical Academy. “What can you tell me about Philip Groveletter?” I asked.

Sophia walked me to the reception area. “He’s a stickler for the rules. He’s also been vying for Letty’s job for a number of years, but was passed over in favor of her. So, he has a chip on his shoulder, from what I understand. But…he’s known for his compassion. He volunteers at the Children’s Hospital, reading to kids every Sunday afternoon. From what I’ve dug up, none of his neighbors have anything bad to say about him, and even though he’s strict with the student body, the kids say he’s fair.”

“So, not likely to have killed Letty for her job?” I shoved my arms into my jacket and buckle the belt.

“Right. You never know, but he wouldn’t be my first choice in suspects,” she said. “Anyway, off you go and here’s hoping you can find out something.”

I waved, then clattered down the stairs to the main floor. As I exited the building, the wind picked up and whistled past. I jogged to my car, sliding in as the clouds opened and a sheet of blinding rain poured down.

Windchime Magical Academy was up in East Bothell, which was a drive. It was off 57 th Ave SE, a dead-end road with a massive thicket of forest around the school. As I came to the driveway leading into the campus, I could feel the magic rise. Gather several hundred witches in one area and—whether or not they were young—the energy was going to reflect it.

The academy had originally been housed in one building, but the campus had grown over the years and now there were two buildings for classrooms, two dorms—a girl’s dorm and one for the boys, a gymnasium with an indoor pool. The main administration/community building housed the cafeteria, the bookshop, a small convenience store of sorts, and all the teachers’ offices as well as the main admin offices and an auditorium. The clocktower that overlooked the main square was also attached to the main admin building. The buildings were red brick, although the newer buildings had less of a weathered look than the main one.

The main drive from the road up to the campus was called Firefly Lane, which I found a little odd, given we didn’t have fireflies in the area.

As I came to the parking lot, I found an open spot in the visitor’s parking. As I turned off the engine, the silence settled around me, although it was the loudest silence I’d ever heard. Though there weren’t many sounds from the city or even the road here, the sound of energy racing through the campus crackled around me.

I stepped out of the car and looked around. A few students were outside, racing from one building to another, but the rain seemed to detour any outdoor activities. It was pouring and, though I seldom used an umbrella, I’d brought one, not knowing how far I’d have to walk. I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed toward the clocktower building.

McCarver Hall, as it was called, was four stories high, though the main floor seemed to begin two stories up given the steps leading up to the doors. The building might have a couple lower floors, but all I could see was red brick walls on the sides. The clocktower rose another two stories above the highest level. The huge clock was beautiful, and I wondered if it chimed on the hour. Given it was closing in on two PM—my appointment time—I’d probably find out.

I began to jog as the rain became a downpour that even the umbrella couldn’t withstand. A sudden gust caught it and pulled it inside out.

“Damn it,” I said, trying to put it right. By the time I had returned it back to its normal form and dashed up the two flights of steps to reach the door, I was soaked. I ducked in through the double doors and moved away from the entrance to give myself a shake, like a wet dog. I heard a snicker and glanced over to see a group of girls watching me. They looked to be in their early teens, but it was hard to tell these days.

“Hey, you three. Which way is the principal’s office?” I said. “I assume you know the way.”

They quieted down, but one—I assumed their leader—pointed down the hallway to the right. “Three doors down on the left,” she said.

“Thanks.” I waved to them and headed in the direction she pointed, hoping she wasn’t being a smart ass. But sure enough, the sign on the glass enclosed office read “Reception.”

I ducked in through the door to one side. “Is this where I can find the vice-principal?”

One of the women behind the counter gave me a warm smile. “Yes, actually, it is. You are?”

“Kyann Sarasan. I have a two o’clock with Philip Groveletter.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, consulting her appointment book. “Please take a seat and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

I took off my jacket, looking around for a place to hang it along with my umbrella.

“Oh, right over there,” she said, noticing my search. “I’m Ms. Falcon, by the way.”

“Thank you.” I hung up my jacket and my umbrella. “I didn’t want to drip all over your floor—” I paused as a loud chime echoed through the halls. “Is that the clocktower?”

“No, but it sounds when the clocktower does. You can’t hear the chimes from the tower in here,” she added.

I sat down and pulled out my phone. Two o’clock on the nose.

A moment later, she picked up the phone at a soft beep, then stood. “If you’ll follow me, please,” she said.

I followed her back through a maze of offices. We stopped in front of a large office that had a long glass window like the outer office. She rapped once, then opened the door.

“Ms. Sarasan to see you.”

“Show her in,” came the deep voice from within.

Ms. Falcon stepped back, ushering me through the door. Then, she closed it behind her as she headed back to her desk.

I found myself facing a man who looked much younger than I expected, though if he was a witch, chances were, he was older than me. He had short brown hair, was neat and trim, about five-ten, and he was wearing a non-descript gray suit. But he was tidy, and he had a pleasant smile on his face.

“Ms. Sarasan, won’t you have a seat?” he said. “Would you like some coffee?” He pointed to the coffee pot on a credenza beneath a window. From what I could see, the window overlooked the square, and I realized that we were in the left wing.

“I’ll never turn down caffeine,” I said. “One sugar and cream, please.”

He poured me a mug of coffee, added the sweetener and the cream, and handed me the mug. It had the school motto on it: Knowledge. Magic. Action.

I settled down in the chair across from his, and set my coffee on the desk, on the coaster he provided. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“I understand that Angela Hargrove has given you permission to gather her sister’s effects,” he said.

I nodded. “Yes and?—”

“I also know that you’re the owner of Shadow Blade Investigations. I assume you’re here at Angela’s bequest?” He propped his elbows on his desk and folded his hands, resting his chin on them.

I stared at him. Sometimes, it was better to come clean. “Yeah, pretty much. Do you mind?”

He sat back then, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. I would have appreciated you being totally upfront about it, though.”

I thought about the unexplained deaths and missing students. “There’s a good reason why I wasn’t. But now you know, and I hope you’ll decide to help us out. Angela says her sister isn’t the type to throw herself out of a window.”

At that point, Philip Groveletter let out a deep sigh. “To be honest, I feel the same way. But the police found nothing. Do you think you can help?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m willing to try.”

“All right, then tell me, what do you need?” He stood. “Tell me where to begin.”