I pulled out my phone again and called Teran. “Hey, Auntie, do you have anything we could eat for dinner? I can call for takeout but I wanted to ask you first.” Teran was a wonderful cook. While I could whip up tasty food, she was a gourmet chef.
“Hmm, how many?”
“Three, maybe four if Killian gets home early, but Tuesday nights he works late at the clinic, so probably just you, me, and Ari.”
Teran put me on mute for a moment, then returned to the phone. “How does corn chowder and cornmeal muffins sound?”
“Like heaven in a bowl,” I said. “It’s not too much trouble, is it?”
“Not at all. I already made a big pot to take to a potluck tomorrow, but I was rethinking things and had already decided to make a chef’s salad instead. Salad is easier to transport and I won’t have to heat it up when I get there.” She paused, then said, “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, in a way, but I don’t know if I can explain. Things feel off, and Esmara hasn’t been talking a lot to me.” My auntie was also connected to the Ladies, only her guardian was her aunt Prue—another one of my great-aunts. Prue had been a sharpshooter by trade, as well as a firecracker by nature. She had been contracted by the government in World War I, before women were allowed to be in combat, and served as a sniper in the war. I had never heard those stories from my mother, but Teran had recently discovered a bunch of memorabilia including a Purple Heart award that was given to Prue for being wounded in battle.
“Sometimes they don’t—especially if it’s something we’re supposed to learn on our own. That’s one thing to remember about our Ladies, they don’t answer prayers. They’re more likely to smack our hands with a ruler if we don’t do what we’re supposed to. And let me tell you, once you’ve been smacked, you’ll never forget it.” Teran laughed. “I’ll be over in about thirty minutes. I need to throw together the salad for tomorrow before I head over.”
I set my phone on the coffee table and thought about getting a snack, but given Teran was bringing a hearty dinner, I decided against it. Instead, I picked up the remote and flipped on the local news. I had a smart TV and I also got MovieMania and Streamboat—two streaming media services. I was thinking of canceling my cable and landline. Sticking with cell phone and the streaming services would save me at least a hundred dollars a month, and while I wasn’t hurting for money, it seemed to be a smart idea. Especially since most of the phone calls I got on the landline were robocalls.
As I was watching one of the ghost hunting shows, the doorbell rang. I hopped up, muted the TV, and answered the door. It was Ari.
“Hey, how are you feeling after the other night?” I asked, giving her a hug.
“Actually, now that you mention it, I’m feeling a little odd. I keep thinking we did something that I can’t remember.” She slid off her coat and hung it up in the closet. “The evening’s all hazy, like a really weird dream.” Shrugging, she picked up Klaus and ruffled his belly. “Hey boy, how are you? How’s my Klausy-boy?”
He licked her face and then jumped down, chasing Xi down the hall toward the kitchen.
“I feel the same way,” I said. “Teran’s bringing over a pot of corn chowder and some cornmeal muffins for dinner, so why don’t we set the table?”
Ari found the soup bowls and bread plates while I loaded the table with butter, grated cheese, and honey. We added silverware, setting soup spoons and butter knives by each place setting. Outside, the wind had picked up and gusts were rattling the windows. I stepped out on the back porch to take a look at the weather.
The wind was wailing through the Mystic Wood, shaking the trees and sending branches all over the backyard. A glance at the skies showed the clouds socking in. They were silvery, and the rain that was pouring down was interspersed with frozen rain. It wasn’t quite snow, but by morning, it would be. A howling from the thicket behind my house startled me, and I shivered. It sounded like a wolf. Some shifter was on the prowl tonight. I quickly looked over at Killian’s yard, but his house was still dark.
Retreating back into the kitchen, I found that Ari was nowhere in sight, but I heard her talking to someone and the next moment, Teran followed her into the kitchen, carrying a cardboard box with a covered tureen in it. Ari was carrying a zipper pouch containing a bountiful number of muffins.
“Do you want to heat the soup up in the microwave, or do you need a pot?” I asked, making room on the counter for the tureen.
After giving me a kiss on the cheek, Teran said, “I think we should heat it up in a pan, actually. I don’t think my china’s microwave-safe.” She lifted the lid and even though the soup was cold, it smelled wonderful.
I found a soup pot and carefully poured the chowder into it, setting it on the stove. I turned the burner to medium high as Teran shuffled through the drawer for a stirring spoon. Ari arranged the muffins on a serving plate, and then she and I pulled chairs closer to the stove as Teran stayed by the range, stirring the corn chowder.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something that happened this morning,” I said. “I’m a little unnerved. Actually—two things happened that have left me unnerved. Maybe I’m making more about it than is necessary, but…”
“What happened?” Teran asked.
“Well, when I got to work today, my desk was covered with roses. They weren’t from Killian, before you ask. I’m actually not sure who they were from.” I told them about the roses and the message scrawled across the wall behind my desk. “Then, this afternoon, I was talking to Charles Crichton at the library and…well…he grabbed my butt.”
Ari stared at me. “He what?”
“Grabbed my butt. I know—it was weird. When I called him on it, he was terribly embarrassed, and I truly believe that he had no intention of doing that, but…it just happened. Most guys who say that are full of crap, but Charles… It was just so out of the blue, and so out of character.”
Teran gave the soup a final stir and poured it back into the tureen. As she carried it to the table, she said, “I believe you and yes, it is out of character. Charles Crichton has always been the nicest, most polite man. I’m on the historical society board with him, and he’s never once come across as boorish or problematic.”
“Oh! Speaking of boors, I forgot to tell you that I got a call from Ellison today. He burned down the magazine and now he’s afraid he’s going to get sued by the businesses next door for their damage. He had the nerve to blame me and then asked if he could come stay with me.” I picked up a muffin, cut it in half, and buttered it.
“You have had a rough day,” Ari said.
“Oh, that’s just the extraneous stuff. I didn’t tell you about the case we’re working on. I went down to the Spit & Whistle Pub yesterday and that place scared the hell out of me. In fact, I’m still waiting on a call from Rowan Firesong. She’s doing some research on Clarence van Nostram for me.”
“The Spit & Whistle Pub? Clarence van Nostram?” Teran jerked her head up. “What does he have to do with it?”
I stared at her. “Have you heard of him?”