Eternity's Mark (2 page)

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Authors: Maeve Greyson

BOOK: Eternity's Mark
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“I must
blend in,
Thaetus. Do ye realize how much trouble I'll have with security at the airport if I show up for a flight to the United States with no baggage?” Taggart wandered around the room, spotted a book lying on the table beside the bed, grabbed it, and tossed it in the bag.
“Then just take an empty bag.” Thaetus snatched out the book and glanced at the spine with a frown. “This one is mine. Ye canna have it.”
“They x-ray the bags, Thaetus. They would question an empty bag just as much as no bag at all. Now, tell me about the rumblings and keep your precious little book.” What a fuss over something as silly as a book. With a shake of his head, Taggart stifled a groan, yanked open a drawer, and shoveled up a handful of shirts. Thaetus fretted more over his meager possessions than a female Draecna nesting in her first cavern.
Thaetus hugged his book against his narrow chest and sniffed as he stuck his nose up in the air. “Our sources say they've located our precious guardian. And they know ye travel to recover her.”
Taggart slammed the drawer shut so hard the dresser rocked against the wall. “How in the hell did they find that out? If they've found her, they could make an attempt on her life before I get there to protect her.” This meant he couldn't get to this Jasper Mills fast enough. Hannah MacPherson wasn't safe. Adrenaline surged through Taggart's veins, pounding the message:
Make haste before it's too late
. Frustration addled him as he struggled with the fact that he still needed to use twenty-first-century means. If just one inhabitant caught him sifting out of thin air, widespread panic would ensue. Creating chaos among the population of Jasper Mills wasn't the way to win the woman's trust.
Thaetus eased a step back toward the door. “The minion confessed. From the information we gathered from his mind, they know where she resides but they haven't quite pinpointed
who
she is. So, she's safe for now. But as soon as ye get there, ye can rest assured, they'll figure out exactly which resident she is.”
“Has Septamus disposed of him yet?” Taggart clenched his teeth. He already knew the answer before he spoke the question. He'd once interrogated a minion himself. Messy, wicked little bastards once ye'd broken their will.
Thaetus shook his head. “No. The minion destroyed itself as soon as Septamus twisted the last bit of information from its mind.”
“Dammit to hell,” Taggart stomped across the disheveled room. “They're getting sloppy. Either that or we are. I want to know how they discovered this information. Minions canna pass through the portals unattended. They must be accompanied by someone with more powerful magic.” Taggart waved his hand at the bulging suitcase on the disheveled bed and it sealed itself shut. “I need the rest of my papers now, Thaetus. There's no time to waste.”
 
The diner already swelled with the early lunch crowd, but Hannah managed to snag her favorite spot at the tall counter. She smiled as she slid her hand across the worn vinyl seat, still warm from its last occupant. This particular red stool won the choice seat award because it provided the perfect vantage point for viewing the entire room. From this perch against the gleaming tile wall, you could sit and see everyone as they entered the diner, see everyone at the tables, and still gossip to whoever worked behind the counter. It also spun at the perfect speed. Hannah locked her ankles around the steel pole as she leaned her elbows on the counter. This seat had been Hannah's preferred spot since she'd been tall enough to crawl up on the bright, red swiveling pedestal. And this was where she'd end this infernal parking ticket romance maneuver launched by the population of Jasper Mills.
“Hey, Hannah! I see you got another ticket today! I can't believe you blocked the fire station. Shame on you, young lady!”
It had already started. She didn't even bother looking around. She knew that voice; it was old Mr. Henry. He'd loved Jake like a son. But now he'd become as determined as the rest of the town that Hannah should move on with her life. Well, Mr. Henry needed to butt out and concentrate on chasing Agnes around the library.
“Do you wanna cup of coffee to go with that order of determination written all over your face or what?”
“That would be wonderful, Millie. Thank you very much.” Hannah purred a sigh of smug satisfaction as she beamed her slyest grin up into her best friend's face.
“Where have you been all morning?”
Tracing her nails around the rim of the thick ceramic cup, Hannah tapped each one of her fingers in turn as she stared down into the dark, swirling brew. Millie would find out soon enough. The rich aroma of the coffee tickled her nose; her stomach growled in anticipation. She always got hungry after she'd solved a problem. Perhaps a slice of cheesecake would be good while she waited. “I've had a very enlightening morning.”
“Enlightening, huh?” Millie repeated as she pulled four plates of steaming food from the window between the kitchen and the bar and stacked them in a line down her arm. “Hold that thought. I'll be right back.” Bobbing her head so fast her short blond curls snapped in the air, Millie looked like her head bounced on a spring. Flitting like a hummingbird, she plopped the plates in front of their awaiting patrons and returned to her place behind the counter before Hannah swallowed her first sip of the scalding-hot coffee. “Okay. Now what do you mean by enlightening?”
Hannah held up a finger and shook her head as she glanced up at the oversized clock centered on the bright, red wall at the back of the room. “Not yet. I'm waiting for three more people to arrive and then we're all going to have a nice little chat about my car and erroneous parking tickets.”
Millie turned and glanced at the great black and white clock, then frowned as one of the hands shifted. She caught her lip between her teeth and faced Hannah with a pained expression on her face. “What do you mean by a nice little chat about your car and parking tickets? What are you gonna do, Hannah?”
“You never could lie and I know you're in on it too, Millie. You might as well 'fess up now and save yourself some embarrassment.”
“They made me do it! I didn't have a choice!”
“Of all people! You know better than anyone, Millie. How could you do this to me?”
“Marty! Get out here and cover for me!” Millie jerked her head toward the swinging doors of the back storage room as she grabbed Hannah's sleeve and yanked. “
You
come with me right now!”
All heads in the diner swiveled to follow the two young women as they stomped their way toward the back room.
As soon as they'd shoved their way through the doors, Millie turned Hannah loose and whirled on her with a shaking finger. “Hannah, you know it's time you moved on. It's been over four years since Jake died. You
have got
to get on with your life. You're a young woman for heaven's sake. You can't just shut yourself down. It's just not natural.”
“That is not your decision, Millie! That's nobody's decision but mine!” Hannah yanked her wrinkled sleeve and swallowed hard to keep from screaming. Her entire body trembled inside; she risked collapsing at any moment. It may have been four years since Jake's loss had ripped out her heart, but her emotions still knotted in her throat.
How could Millie do this to her? She wasn't about to let any of them see her cry! She clenched her fists and sucked in a deep shaking breath. She had to make Millie understand. “Are you the one lying in bed at night with the sound of him breathing beside you? Are you the one rolling over with his scent on the sheets, still feeling as though the bed's warm from his body?” Hannah took a step toward Millie, backing her against a rack of unpacked canned goods. “Are you the one that still swears sometimes if you turn around just fast enough he might be there waiting to hold you? Can you swear you just heard the sound of his voice because he just whispered your name? Answer me, Millie. Can you?”
Millie edged away, hugging herself back against the rack. She stood there silent and stared at Hannah.
Hannah's heart hurt like a raw open sore with no hope of healing. Millie should know better. She knew Hannah and Jake had been inseparable. They had all grown up together in Jasper Mills. Everyone had known Hannah and Jake would always be together. Now Jake had gone and Hannah's plans had fallen apart. They had no right to tell her to move on.
“I have photographs. I know you, Tom, and Brodie moved my car today and I'd be willing to bet you're the ones who've been moving it all along. This is over, Millie. It's done! Matt's a nice guy, but I'm not on the market. Fix him up with Lily over at the day care center. She's cute, single, and wants an entire herd of kids.” Hannah yanked open the storeroom door, leaving Millie with her lower lip trembling. “I've had enough of everyone's meddling,” she hissed over her shoulder. “And I hope everyone heard me.” Turning around, she swallowed a groan.
“Oh, great.”
There stood Matt at the counter with his ticket pad in hand, a smug grin smeared across his face. Might as well get it over with and take them all out at once. “Sheriff Matt, I'd like to take the opportunity to give you something that I think will cover all of those parking tickets.” With a forced smile stretched across her face so tight her cheeks ached, Hannah fished into her pocket, her gaze locked with his.
Matt's smile widened and he stood a bit taller, glancing around the diner. “So, you've finally decided to give me a few hours of your time and have dinner with me?”
Hannah shook her head as she
tsk-tsked
at Sheriff Matt. “Why, no, Sheriff Matt, I believe that would be unethical. Actually, I thought these photographs of possible tampering of personal property might be of some interest to you. There's also one that looks like you might even know what's going on. See? This one right here?”
The diner settled into a silence as quiet as a tomb. The usual clank of the dishes and silverware evaporated as though they'd consisted of steam. The murmur of voices also disappeared as though Hannah and Sheriff Mulroney stood in between the aisles of a deserted church instead of between the booths of the diner.
“They were just trying to get you to come around, Hannah. No one meant you any harm.”
Hannah lifted her chin and stood a little taller. She made a slow circuit and looked around the diner at all the eyes focused on her. She looked deep into the faces, read all the looks that waited to see what she planned to say. She'd known each and every one of these people all her life. She'd thought they'd realize by now how determined she was that they step back and give her more time to heal.
“I appreciate what all of you tried to do here with this little ploy. But you can't do this for me. You've got to let me heal and move on in my own time. I can't get over a lifetime of Jake in just four short years. Your little game has got to stop. It's not funny anymore.” Then she turned back to Matt and tapped on his leather-bound ticket book with the packet of digital pictures. “No more hide and ticket with my car. We can be friends, but that's it. If you keep writing me tickets, I'll make sure your house and office is infested with every type of varmint I can find.”
“You can't do that!”
Old Mr. Henry cleared his throat as he hobbled his way across the diner toward the cash register in the corner. “Don't underestimate her, son. Everybody knows Hannah has an odd way with the critters. You should've seen her with that pack of skunks a few years ago.
Nobody
messed with Hannah that spring. And that was before Jake died.”
“It's no worse than what you did with your little ticket charade. So, like I said, no more tickets. Do we have a deal?” Hannah stood at the door of the diner with one brow arched, waiting for Matt's compliance.
Matt tossed his ticket book on the counter, then raised his hands in the air. “Fine! No more tickets!”
 
The sunlight filtered down through the ceiling of leaves and danced in erratic spots across the ground. Birches, maples, and fifty-year-old oaks dotted this part of the mountain, along with cedar, dogwood, and pine. The hand-shaped leaves of the birch and maples waved and fluttered in the gentle breeze. The early-morning sunshine still held the kiss of spring as it wafted through the air. It was early enough in the summer that the humidity wasn't high enough to stick the clothes to your body, the kind of warm sunny day where cats became boneless, draping their bodies along the rail of the porch for a lazy, sun-drenched snooze.
Hannah rocked to the rhythmic squeak of the battered porch glider, sipping her morning coffee. She loved the steady rickedy-rackedy thump of the rusty-hinged swing. It reminded her of Grandma and simpler days. They'd frittered away hours on that front porch swing making up stories about magical places.
She propped her bare feet on the waist-high rail of the weathered veranda, cradling the steaming cup against her chest. The broad covered porch ran the circumference of the house providing the perfect morning oasis. The third-generation home screamed for want of a few replaced boards and a fresh coat of paint, but she just couldn't seem to find the time or the inclination. With a sigh, she flicked at a bubbled-up paint chip with her big toe. A ruby-throated hummingbird buzzed in from the cluster of cedars bunched at the corner of the house. The iridescent flash of green hovered a brief moment in front of her face, dipped closed enough for her to feel the brush of the wind from its whirring wings, then dashed to alight on the feeder hanging from the roof's edge.

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