She pointed to the railing. "My telescope. A big crash woke me up, and I looked out... it's gone."
We both cautiously leaned over the rail, but it was too dark to see anything. I looked around. Nobody could have been out on this roof. The wind was calm, and everything seemed undisturbed. Maybe a sudden gust? The wind often picked up around here without much of a warning. "Well, get your bathrobe and slippers on and let's go downstairs."
I pulled on my sweats and slipped into my huaraches. While I was waiting for Miranda, I peeked into Kip's room. He was breathing deeply, sound asleep. Good, he didn't need to be up during the middle of the night. Randa and I padded downstairs and out the front door. I switched on the floodlight, and we peered over the low wall of the porch into the front yard. There, glittering under the light, was Miranda's new telescope. She let out a groan and raced down the side steps and around into the lawn. A large cedar bough lay near it, the end freshly broken. I picked up the branch and examined it as Randa knelt near the main tube of the telescope, her expression heartsick.
"My new telescope! You gave it to me for Christmas!" She gathered it up in her arms; the tube was dented, the tripod legs broken. Without asking, I knew that the lens hadn't survived the free fall. My heart sank. The telescope was now six hundred dollars' worth of scrap metal and broken glass. Worse yet was Miranda's disappointment. Ever since she'd opened the box, she'd been treating the telescope with as much love as she once treated her stuffed bears.
I dropped the tree limb on the ground and rested a hand on her shoulder. "The wind must have come up suddenly and ripped the branch off the tree; when it fell, it caught your telescope and took it over the railing." I wasn't sure whether or not I believed my explanation, but it was the only thing I could think of. The squirrels were still hibernating, or at least they hadn't put in a strong show lately. Besides, they weren't big enough to do this kind of damage. They would have had to physically pick it up and heave it over the railing. Nor did we have any birds that could cause such havoc.
I glanced back at the roof, wondering if anybody could have climbed up, but nope, not without a ladder, and we would have seen evidence of anything like that when we were on the roof. No, nobody had been up there tonight except when we crawled through Miranda's window. I was sure of it.
"It'll be okay, honey, this is just a stroke of bad luck. Come on, dry your eyes. Tomorrow is Saturday. Sunday, we'll go buy you another. Don't cry, sweetheart." Comforted with the promise that we would replace her beloved telescope, Miranda let me lead her back inside. While I was at work she could call around and find out if the store had another in stock.
With a last glance at the glittering shards of metal, glass, and plastic now decorating the lawn, I locked the door. Still shaken, we stopped in the kitchen for milk and a cookie before we went back upstairs to our beds. The rest of the night passed without incident.
Three
DESPERATE FOR A caffeine fix, I stopped at Star-bucks before we hit the Chintz 'n China. I snagged a triple shot grande" iced mocha for myself, and the kids ordered apple cider and croissant sandwiches. As the cold chill of the chocolate-enhanced espresso ran down my throat, I went over what we had to do today.
For a Saturday, my errand list was pretty light. First and foremost: the weekly cleanup of the Chintz 'n China. The kids always helped; I'd made it a part of their regular chores. Lana would also be there; she came in on weekends now that Cinnamon was working full-time during the week. At some point, I wanted to run the dragon over to Mr. Hodges, who operated a jewelry and estate store across the street from my shop. He specialized in appraising rare goods and maybe, if I was lucky, he could help me identify and valuate the dragon.
Which reminded me: I opened my Day-Timer and penned a note to start hunting for Daniel Barrington's family. Murray had called me before I left home to tell me that the Chiqetaw police ran his information through several national databases, but nothing came up, and they simply didn't have the manpower to mount an in-depth search to continue looking unless some new leads came in.
I tied a bandanna around my head and grabbed a dust rag. "Kids, take the tearoom. Dust, sweep, scrub tables, and mop. And then," I said, feeling like Cinderella's stepmother, "you can go." While they polished the tables and counter, Lana and I attacked the dust bunnies that hid out on the shelves in the store proper. Within an hour the shop was gleaming, not a speck of dust in sight. I gave the kids the go-ahead to take off. "Out of here, before I find something else for you to do."
Kip shot out the door before I could say another word. Miranda watched him race away, then grinned at me as she strolled after him. I knew she was headed home to call the astronomer's hangout in Bellingham—a store called the Skies & Scopes—to ask if they had another Swift Dobson-ian telescope in stock.
I grimaced as I made a quick call to my bank branch and, using the automated service, transferred seven hundred dollars from my savings account into checking. The price of the telescope had caused me more than a little financial grief at Christmas. Having to shell out the same amount just four months later was like a kick in the teeth, but Miranda hadn't tossed her telescope over the railing, and I wasn't about to penalize her for a freak accident. I would, however, insist she start bringing it inside at night instead of leaving it set up on the roof.
As Lana flipped the sign from Closed to Open and unlocked the door, a little throng of customers pushed in. Weird. Saturdays were usually slow until midafternoon. The mystery cleared up when they crowded around me, asking about Daniel and the hit-and-run. Like vultures attracted to the feeding grounds, they flocked in, hoping for scraps of gossip. Lana intervened, bless her heart, encouraging them to "Come have a cup of tea," while I retreated behind the counter. Farrah Warnoff and Lydia Johnson followed me, but they actually needed help.
"I'd like to schedule Monday readings for Mother and myself." Farrah had become one of my most loyal and most annoying tarot clients. At times, I dreaded seeing her come in the door. She usually didn't really need a reading, she just liked to tell her friends about her "psychic," which irritated the hell out of me.
I stared at my Day-Timer, packed with a flurry of scribbled names and times, longing to take a giant eraser to the whole list. The money was good, but I just didn't want to handle the cards for a while so soon after Daniel's untimely end. Well, somebody had said honesty was the best policy. I'd find out if they were right. "You know what, Farrah? I'm taking the rest of the month off. I'm just plum worn out."
She patted my arm. "It must be quite a drain on your power. I can't imagine what it's like to have people dying on you right and left. I can see how you need some time to recuperate. How about May first? I believe that's a Tuesday?"
Yeah. Drain on my powers. Oh yep. My powers of patience, I thought, penciling her in for May Day. While I was thinking about it, I leaned around the corner and motioned to Lana. "After the rush dies down, I want you to notify my tarot clients for the rest of April that I'm canceling all my appointments through the end of the month. Don't schedule anybody until May, okay?"
She nodded. I handed her the appointment book and escorted Lydia to a chair next to my desk, where she sat, tapping her impeccably polished nails on the wooden arm. She just wanted to know if her special order had arrived yet, so I dug through the pile of receipts until I found her invoice and matched it to a teapot in the storeroom. I wrapped the pot and filled out the invoice so she could pay Lana at the counter. She gave me a cheery wink as she headed out the door. "Don't let them get you down, Emerald. Just ride the waves." She swooshed her hand through the air. "Go with the flow."
As the afternoon wore on, I began to feel jittery. The caffeine was wearing off, yet my mind was still racing. The destruction of Miranda's telescope had spooked me. And why had Daniel been so resigned, so depressed? Why couldn't the police find any mention of his family? I opened my purse and withdrew the carefully wrapped package containing the dragon. After telling Lana that I'd be back in a few minutes, I dashed across the road, carefully looking to make sure the way was clear. I wasn't going to set myself up for an encore of yesterday's tragedy.
Mr. Hodges had perused the Chintz 'n China a number of times, now and then buying a gift for his wife. He greeted me'when I slipped into the hushed foyer of Hodges & Sons. I handed him the dragon. "I'd like to find out an approximate age and value on this, if you can come up with anything."
His eyes twinkled. "A welcome challenge, Ms. O'Brien. Can you come back Monday? I should be able to have an estimate for you then."
"Sure thing." I took my receipt and darted back across the street. As I hit the door, I almost ran into Kip, who came barreling down the sidewalk. He grumbled a hello, and I gave him a sidelong look. Something was up.
"You okay?" He nodded, but I wasn't buying it. I knelt beside him, looking him over for any blood, broken bones, or chipped teeth. Nope, nada, but I knew he didn't get that storm-brewing look unless he was upset. "C'mon kiddo, what's going on?"
"Why can't you just leave me alone?"
I gave him a pointed stare. "Excuse me, mister? What did you say?"
He lost it then, shouting in my face. "Sly and Tony said I couldn't play with them, okay? Sly said Tony's his new best friend, and they laughed at me and called me a wimp and told me to run home to my mama! Are you happy now?" With an abrupt stop, he burped. I led him into my office where I handed him a tissue and gently smoothed back his hair. He blew his nose.
"I assume you know better than to shout at me like that?"