Hex on the Beach by Kelley Armstrong
Chapter Six
Breakfast is more than an hour away, so I’m not surprised to find the kitchen empty. I’m sure Ani has everything ready to be popped into the oven for warming and baking, allowing her to spend the minimum amount of time banging around the kitchen this morning. She has, naturally, left out a plate of mixed coffee pods and sugar with a note that there is cream and milk in the fridge. There are also plates of both muffins and fruit. I make two coffees and take a muffin and two apples. Then I text Marius that I’m taking our pre-breakfast treats outside to enjoy the sunrise.
It’s a little late for the sunrise, but it makes an excellent excuse. As I step onto the deck, I’m so busy thinking of where to sit that I don’t realize anyone is out there until I hear Kennedy’s laughter and Aiden’s answering chuckle.
I stop so quickly I slosh the coffee. Before I can retreat, Aiden is there, taking the coffees from me as Kennedy hands me a napkin for the droplets spattered on my arm.
“I didn’t know anyone was out here,” I say. “Let me go back inside.”
“No, no,” Kennedy says. “I was just talking Aiden’s ear off, as usual. Chattering away. He’ll be grateful for the rescue.”
She’s teasing, but then there’s a slight pause before Aiden murmurs, “Of course not.” It sounds perfunctory, as if he’s just realized he should say something. Of course, what he should do is tease her back. Joke that yes, thank goodness I showed up to save him.
That’s what Kennedy would do. It is not what Aiden would do, and that two-second pause was him madly trying to figure out what to say and realizing that the longer he says nothing, the worse it seems. So he made the most perfunctory response possible, and Kennedy colors, thinking she really is boring him with her chatter.
I have my work cut out for me here. But I am up to the task.
“He certainly didn’t seem to need rescue,” I say.
“I don’t,” Aiden says firmly. “Which Kennedy knows. She just likes to tease me.” A mock stern look her way that makes her relax. “We were discussing the mystery from last night.”
“Oh? It is a delicious one, isn’t it? I’m surprised it hasn’t been solved by now.” I take my coffee back from Aiden. “Perhaps it just needs amateur detectives with a bit of luck on their side.”
He gives the faintest smile as he shakes his head. “I believe it will require more than that. However, we are intrigued.” A quick glance at Kennedy. “Or I am, at least.”
“I am, too,” she says. “And being the fiftieth anniversary, I think we should solve it.”
“I absolutely think you should solve it,” I say, sipping my coffee as casually as I can. “You have a knack for that sort of thing. You should revisit the scene. Look for clues. Oh, and Jonathan seemed interested last night. Perhaps he and Ani could dig through archives. See what they find.”
“Sadly, they’re too busy for research duty,” Kennedy says. “There are events at the library, plus Jonathan is on the town council. And Ani has volunteered for everything, as always.”
“Mmm, well, yes, but—”
“Plus, I have a new shop to open.” Her shoulders sag. “Which is exciting, of course. Especially right at the beginning of the season, and I have you to thank for that, Vanessa.” She waves a hand. “Forget Lisa Lake. If the case hasn’t been solved by now, it won’t be. This weekend is about preparing for my grand opening.”
“I’m sure that won’t take up all your time,” I say. “Not with Aiden there to help you.”
They both hesitate. Then Aiden says quickly, “I will help, of course. As much as I can. I did promise—”
“You promised nothing. You did more than enough with the insurance claim. Family comes first.”
I turn slowly on Aiden. “Family?”
He grimaces. “I woke to a five a.m. string of texts from my father, who woke to a three a.m. flurry of phone calls from Venice. It seems Rian’s idea of rescheduling is to send out e-mails as he’s boarding a plane. He was supposed to be the face of Connolly Enterprises at a critical meeting with investors today. They are not happy. Our parents are not happy.”
“Which has nothing to do with you,” I say.
Behind him, Kennedy makes a face, telling me she’s pointed out the same thing.
“It is how they operate,” Aiden says, sipping his coffee. “I need to speak to Rian.”
“So you get the early-morning texts while he gets to sleep in? Despite the fact you have nothing to do with this and are not part of the family business?”
“I am here,” he says. “Enjoying the long weekend, and he shirked his duties to join me. Therefore, it is my responsibility.” He rolls his shoulders. “That sounds bitter. I apologize. It’s best for all if I handle the situation as swiftly as possible. Speak to Rian. Smooth things over with my parents. Help him smooth things over with the investors. And then . . .” A faint smile for Kennedy. “I am yours for the remainder of the weekend.”
I want to argue. Kennedy’s practically ready to explode with everything she wants to say about this. But we both stay silent. We’ve made our opinions known. If we push, Aiden will feel obligated to defend his family, because they are his family after all.
“I should wake Rian and get this over with,” Aiden says, with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a date with the firing squad.
“No, no,” I say. “Let him sleep a little longer. You two enjoy your coffee.”
Kennedy shakes her head. “I should see if Ani needs help in the kitchen. Get that done before I need to leave for the shop.”
They head inside, brushing past Marius as he exits. A quick good morning to him, and then they’re gone, leaving him frowning after them.
He comes out and shuts the door. “Maybe you should rethink that shower, Vess. You’re driving everyone away already.”
He sees my expression, and his smile fades. “Everything okay?”
I sigh. “Just seeing my plans disintegrate around me, hopes and dreams swirling into nothing on the winds of fickle fate.”
“Huh. That sounds bad.”
I pat his shoulder. “I will marshal my resources and overcome the obstacles.”
“I do not doubt it. Now tell me what you need me to do today.”
What I needMarius to do is help Kennedy, who has lost both Aiden and Rian. Ani and Jonathan offer to pitch in, but Kennedy reminds them they have a full schedule getting ready for the weekend, which launches today. Hope promises she’ll be by as soon as she’s done running errands. As for Aiden and Rian, they say nothing because they aren’t there. They take breakfast on the porch, which moves to breakfast under the pergola as Rian’s voice rises. Because clearly what Aiden needs—after his brother ruins his weekend—is for that same brother to snap and shout at him.
Families. Sometimes, they’re like the Bennetts, so close and loving you wonder whether they’re accepting applications. Sometimes they’re like the Olympians, where family gatherings are either heaven or hell, and you can never tell which until everyone’s there and it’s too late to escape. Then there are the Connollys, where you don’t even need to have met the parents to want to declare them unfit, adopt their adult sons and invest a fortune in sibling therapy.
By seven-thirty, I’m at the shop with Kennedy and Marius, just as a moving truck pulls up in front. Earlier this month, Kennedy’s Boston shop was, as she puts it, “trashed.” By Havoc? By Hector? We still aren’t sure, but it’d be one of the two, partly because they were looking for something and partly because they are both, as Kennedy would put it again, assholes. Kennedy also jokes that they actually did her a favor. As traumatic as it was at the time, it helped her realize she wanted to move home to Unstable, and the insurance money made that possible.
Unstable’s main street—Bishop—has some houses that have been converted to shops and some businesses that also serve as houses, like the Bennetts’. It also has a proper downtown core, and that’s where Kennedy is renting her new shop. The location has seen a carousel of businesses open and close over the years. As fads change, businesses in Unstable shift, keeping up with trends. Most of those are owned by longtime residents who simply alter their focus when the old one goes out of style. This particular site has been leased by a string of outsiders, all trying and failing to make a go of it.
According to town legend, the store is cursed, which is why locals won’t rent it. As one might expect, Unstable is a superstitious town. Two untimely deaths, decades apart, meant that locals were loath to set up shop here, and then when the outsiders’ businesses failed, that only added to the curse.
The shop is not cursed. Kennedy would know if it were. It is as if the universe reserved this spot just for her, prime real estate in downtown Unstable, where the so-called curse is free advertising, given that she’s running a shop specializing in formerly cursed antiques.
Kennedy and Marius help the movers, and I supervise. I am excellent at supervising, at least when the alternative is lifting and heaving and grunting under the weight of heavy boxes. The moving truck is gone by nine, and we’re helping Kennedy organize the final shipment.
What the truck brought aren’t cursed antiques or even previously cursed ones. Those take time to accumulate. Kennedy lost seventy-five percent of her stock in the destruction of her shop, and what remained was mostly small items, such as jewelry and bric-a-brac. To reopen, she needed stock, and I’ve helped with that. One advantage of being immortal is that I have developed an excellent eye for antiques—I remember what was rare at the time, and I can spot both a bargain and a fake at ten paces. Like many immortals, I supplement my own income buying quality items and storing them as nest eggs. Kennedy and I spent a weekend video-conferencing as we scoured auction listings online until she had enough to open her new shop.
As Kennedy cleans and polishes, Marius rearranges under my supervision. We have an audience, too, a steady stream of both locals and early tourists peering through the windows. Also a steady stream of people knocking on the locked door until Kennedy decides it’s wiser to leave it unlocked and hand out opening-weekend flyers.
The problem with that is every time the bell jangles, she’s hoping it’s Aiden. I’m about to suggest re-locking it when a couple walks in, and Kennedy hurries over to greet them. They’re a middle-aged couple, perhaps in their late forties. Kennedy introduces them as Mitch and Jackie. He’s the local “tech guy,” who’s come to finish setting up the inventory program. She’s a medium specializing in retrocognition.
“No excuse for me being here,” Jackie says. “Other than curiosity.”
“I was going to invite you to a private tour,” Kennedy says. “Please, look around. If you get a glimmer from anything, let me know. We could make up notes for those ones. Mention what you see in their past. I’d include your name and a stack of your business cards beside each.”
“That would be lovely,” Jackie says, and she begins making her way around the room, touching and peering at objects.
Behind Jackie’s back, I lift my brows, and Kennedy shrugs. Retrocognition is the ability to channel history from objects. Athene’s descendants have a variation on it, known as past perception. My brow-lift asked whether Jackie actually has the power. Kennedy’s response means she isn’t sure. In other words, Jackie seems to have some hint of a talent, which could suggest a weak dose of past perception, making her a very distant relative of Athene or another immortal.
When the door flies open again, it’s Hope, who sails in clutching a flyer. She holds it in front of her and bounces on her toes. “Who wants tickets?”
Kennedy takes the flyer as I walk over. It advertises the Lisa Lake tour, with advance tickets available for each night this weekend.
“We’re going, right?” Hope says. “After we talked about it last night? We have to go.”
Kennedy points to the window.
Hope squints out it. “Little early for corndogs, isn’t it?”
“I’m not pointing at the booth outside my window. I’m pointing at the sign in it, which announces the grand opening at seven tonight. The tour starts at eight.”
“So open at seven and kick everyone out at eight. Short and sweet.” She catches Kennedy’s look. “Kidding. Maybe Saturday then?”
“Which tour is this?” Jackie asks as she comes over. She takes the flyer as Kennedy passes it over. “Ooh, Lisa Lake.”
She turns to her husband and waves the flyer. “I told you someone was doing an anniversary tour.”
He wrinkles his nose as he glances over from the computer. “I thought the town wasn’t going to allow that. It’s in poor taste.”
“It’s a true-crime mystery, Mitch.”
“About a real girl who really disappeared.”
She puts a hand on her hip. “I thought you liked the story.”
He lifts one shoulder. “As a fascinating town legend. Not as an opportunity for outsiders to capitalize on a local tragedy.”
“But renewed interest could solve it,” I say.
“Do we want it solved?” He swivels in his chair. “What if it turns out to be a crime? Being the site of a mysterious disappearance is good publicity for Unstable. Being the place where a teen girl was abducted and murdered?” He shakes his head. “I think we should keep the mystery.”
“But if something did happen to her, wouldn’t we want to know? In case whoever is responsible can still be brought to justice?”
Mitch shakes his head and returns to the computer.
“If you kids are interested, you should talk to my aunt,” Jackie says. “She was the assistant tour guide that night.”
“Mrs. Ricci?” Hope says. “I didn’t know that.”
“You could interview her,” Jackie says. “She adores talking about it. These days, no one asks.”
“We’ll do that sometime,” Kennedy says.
“Why don’t I have her come by? I know she’s dying to see the shop.”
Hope looks at her sister, her gaze pleading.
Kennedy smiles. “That would be lovely, if she has the time.”
“She will.”