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“I’m so glad you’re moving here,” I said. “I was hoping you would.” As I went to bed, Fancypants followed me.
“Is it true that Lady Morgance is moving here to stay?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t know about ‘to stay’ if you’re referring to forever, but yes, she’s moving here if she can find a house she likes.” I paused, smiling. “You really like my great-grandmother, don’t you?”
“I do. She’s smart and educated and polite…” He giggled—and trust me, when a dragonette giggled, it was an odd sound, like a cross between a snort and a roar. “She’s a good friend, and she gives me some idea of what to expect as you grow into your years.
I usually didn’t think about the age difference, but Fancypants was right. He would live far longer than I would.
“Well, then, I’m glad you’re happy. She likes you too, Sir Fancypants.” That’s what Grams often called the dragonette. They sparred back and forth, whether it was playing chess or in ideological debates. It was like they were old buddies. Whatever the case, at least they were friends.
“Good night, Fancypants. Sleep well.”
As he flew out of my room, the cats raced in. I left the door cracked so they could get in and out. We curled up together and, with thoughts of the wake filling my mind, I drifted to sleep, feeling like I had closed a door to my past that I didn’t even know was open.
* * *
I dressed in black jeans, a black V-neck sweater, and platform boots the next morning before doing my makeup, feeding the cats, and heading out for brunch. Grams was still asleep, so I left her a quick note. I told her I’d call the alarm people and cancel their appointment, given my entire shop had been destroyed.
It felt so good to be able to leave the house without worrying if it was going to be there when I got back, and I realized how quickly my little family—the cats and Fancypants—had wormed their way deep into my heart.
I arrived at the diner by quarter to eight. It was surprisingly busy, but then, I was seldom out and about before nine. It seemed that a whole section of the world started the day bright and early. Well, I thought, looking at the cloud cover, at least early. There would be no sunshine peeking through today.
Bran was waiting for me in a corner booth, and I was surprised to see Daisy there, as well. As I sat down, the waitress brought me a glass of water and a menu.
“Coffee, please. Do you have lattes?”
“Yes, we do. Plain, vanilla, caramel, and pumpkin spice. We also have mocha.” She pulled out her pad and pencil.
“Triple shot pumpkin spice latte sounds good. I’m not sure about breakfast yet, I need to look at the menu.”
“We haven’t ordered yet,” said Bran. “Just coffee.”
The waitress left to get my drink and I kissed Bran gently on the lips. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Daisy, how are you doing? Fill me in on what I missed yesterday.”
“Don’t you want to talk about the wake at all?” Bran looked confused.
I shook my head. “No, not really. It was sad, and beautiful. My mother confined herself to the least amount of melodrama I’ve seen out of her in years. Oh, and Grams is going to move to Starlight Hollow. She’s going house-hunting today.”
“That’s welcome news,” Bran said. “So, you okay?”
I nodded, studying the menu. “As much as I can be, given everything that’s happened recently. I think I’ll have a waffle and bacon. Grams wouldn’t approve. She’s got me on this health kick, to increase my ability to use my magic. But it’s the day after my cousin’s wake, and I want a waffle.” Leaning back in my seat, I finally said, “All right. Tell me everything.”
“Gloria is being held for observation right now, but it’s looking like she’ll be extradited to Paris within a month. Turns out her fingerprints were all over the murder weapon that killed Julien. They didn’t know the prints were hers because she had no record. I spent two hours on the phone to Paris today, and we sent them over her prints and they match. Julien never held her captive—in fact, after their brief affair, he called it off, his wife says. She gave him an ultimatum—stop cheating, or lose her and his daughter. He chose his family.”
“So Gloria killed him out of jealousy?”
“Yes. Before that, he and his wife had reported several suspicious incidents where they thought they were being watched. We’ve pieced together that Gloria was probably stalking him, and something triggered her to kill him that night. We may never know what, but the wife told the police, at the time, that she and Julien had argued all day over whether they should move to the country. She—her name is Paulette—thought that Gloria was following them. Julien had confessed everything to her about the affair, including Gloria’s name.”
Bran nodded. “Apparently, they’ve been looking for her ever since the murder. They thought she was still in France.”
“So she returned home and…what? Where’s she been hiding out the past few months?”
“We contacted her relatives in town. Gloria told them that Bran had called her, begging to get back together, and that the two of them were making wedding plans. But her folks went on a two-month cruise and just arrived home the other day, so they hadn’t had a chance to contact Bran and congratulate him. In fact, we think that’s what triggered Gloria to start after the two of you,” Daisy said. “She realized that they’d soon know that everything was a lie, and she just…lost it. All her lies were imploding and she couldn’t juggle them anymore. We also found out that the police in France had left messages for her parents, asking for her whereabouts.”
