Midlife Magic - Victoria Danann Page 0,44

because of occupying Dolan’s time and attention, but that thought came too close to the ear markings of a small-town gossip hole. So, I gave myself an internal slap.

“If your cooking is better than the pub, then it truly is remarkable.”

She stood a little straighter and raised her chin. “Anything you can name, I can make for you.”

“That is quite a claim.”

I could see by the responding gleam in her eye that she’d enjoy being challenged. My newfound intuition was telling me that Olivia got personal satisfaction from her work.

With a plan to start easy and graduate the difficulty depending on performance, I said, “Seafood gumbo with shrimp.” She smiled and nodded as if she made that for lunch every day. “Do you think you can figure out hushpuppies?”

“Yes,” she said, simply.

“I like a little bit of onion in the batter.”

“Yes, madam.”

“Okay. You’re on. Twelve o’clock tomorrow. Make enough for four. Maggie, Dolan, you, and I will have lunch in the kitchen.”

Her face fell. And things had been going so well.

Since she seemed not to be able to talk, I said, “Olivia, did I say something to make you speechless?”

“I…”

“Look. If I do decide to stay, we’re going to have to make a pact. I need you to speak freely around me and I need you to overlook my faux pas.”

“Well, I’ve never thought of myself at a station to sit at the magistrate’s table. I feel certain Dolan would think the same.”

I stared for a couple of beats and then laughed out loud. “Well, indulge me. As you might guess, I don’t know a lot of people here and I don’t want to have lunch alone. By the way, can I get ginger ale here? The good kind? Canada Dry?”

She grinned. “Stocked in your icebox.”

“You know a lot more about me than I know about you. We’ll have to remedy that.”

Again, she looked uncomfortable. But if I stayed, I would wear her down with my coarse and classless American ways.

“I’ll tell Maggie and Dolan we’re having Cajun lunch tomorrow.”

“Yes, Magistrate.”

I sighed. “I prefer Rita. If it’s too much of a stretch to call me that, just say okay. Yes, Magistrate, makes me feel like I’m a character in a B movie.” I could see that I’d made her feel uncertain again. “Don’t worry. If I stay, you’ll get used to me.” She opened her mouth and looked unsure. So I helped her out. “It’s easy. Just say, ok-a-a-a-ay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

“See? That didn’t hurt at all.” I think I saw a little smile. “I’ll put the armoire back when I’m through.”

“Yes… Okay.”

The safe had an electronic touchpad with backlights so the darkness in the armoire was of no consequence. I typed in the combination and heard a series of beeps, which I took to mean, “You’re in!”

When I spun the wheel and pulled the heavy door open, I wasn’t looking at a compartment the size of a refrigerator’s interior, which is what I expected. I was looking at a well-lit room, longer than it was wide, with leather bound journals on shelves organized by year. I’d thought there might be a few journals that would provide some bedtime reading. Maybe educate. Maybe entertain. Maybe both. But this was more like what the library at Alexandria probably looked like before it was burned.

I took a deep breath. Where to begin? The earliest record or most recent?

I finally decided on most recent, partly so there wouldn’t be stumbling blocks to expression since language is always evolving. I took the journal on the top of the stack and turned to go. My eyes landed on a tome sitting alone on a shelf. It was covered in midnight blue velvet. Three different shaped mirrors were embedded on the front cover; a circle, a triangle, and a crescent moon, On the right side was a large brass clasp with a keyhole, although I didn’t see a key.

My guess was that it was the definitive work on magical people that Lochlan had suggested might be found in the safe. I reached for the clasp, which slid in my hand like it had been made for me to open. The pages were parchment with descriptions written by hand, accompanied by colorfully illuminated illustrations and ink drawings. My first thought was that it was a treasure to rival the Book of Kells.

I took the blue velvet book, which probably weighed ten pounds, sat down in the huge “nap chair” by the fireplace and opened the book on the

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