Evelina and the Reef Hag (9 page)
“Maybe they trusted the wrong person.” Frankie said, lifting one golden brow.
“Maybe.” If only she knew more about her parents—who their closest allies were—who they trusted most? “My father was a Time Keeper, investigating black market spells. He must have been in touch with the Witches’ Council. They must have known something.”
Frankie didn’t look surprised. “
Raskin
Lipworth
would have known. He’s been the chief investigator for three and a half centuries.” Frankie’s features closed, as though he’d said too much. “But things can happen fast—before you can report details. They wouldn’t have said anything without proof.”
“Is that who you report to?”
“He’s part of the team.”
Good to know. She’d file it under ‘d’ for ‘don’t know a whole hell of a lot,’ or ‘t’ for ‘tight-lipped Time Keeper.’ Not that it was Frankie’s fault. He had a job to do. Ordinarily she’d consider his professionalism noble, but right now, curiosity was burning a hole in her head.
She pushed her eagerness down, keeping her tone casual. “So
Lipworth
would have known the direction the investigation was going, but might not have been completely up to speed.”
“Right.”
“The six doubloons must mean something.”
“We’ll find out.” Frankie reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Why are you doing this?” Evelina said. “I mean, I thought you promised the Witches’ Council you’d stay away from me?”
He shrugged. “You need my help.”
As simple as that.
Wow.
She wished her feelings for him were that easy to explain.
But who was she kidding?
Frankie would help anyone. He was that kind of guy. Besides, this wasn’t just about her. Frankie’s sister was killed by a black magic spell. So he had a personal interest in the case.
Just like she did.
And she planned to get to the bottom of it.
***
“What’s up with the Hell Hut?” Abby leaned across the counter of the Coconut Shack. “No weenies today?”
“It’s closed.” Tally continued to stack paper cones under the counter from the box in her hand. “I haven’t seen them.”
Evelina closed the till, then leaned over the counter beside Abby to have a look. “Seems strange, in the middle of the day, doesn’t it?” What were they up to? Judy and Susie Cheetum were dedicated vendors or cutthroat competitors, whichever way you looked at it. Last week Susie strutted up and down the beach in a hotdog suit while Judy marked a tally after each customer on the chalkboard under the heading ‘hotdogs sold.’
“There’s a volleyball tournament in an hour,” Abby said. “I can’t see them missing that.”
Evelina agreed. A tournament meant spectators—hopefully, hungry and thirsty ones. If the tips were good, it promised to be a lucrative day.
“There must be some crisis.” Tally’s brow puckered, as though doing mental calculations of lost sales. “They wouldn’t miss this.”
“Oh well.” Abby announced with a wide smile. “More customers for us.”
And less nasty looks.
The only thing the Cheetums loved better than winning was blowing their own horn.
No sooner had the thought left Evelina’s head did a girl with curly pigtails roll up to the shack on a
Segway
, fling a flyer at them, then zoom off down the beach.
Evelina caught the green flyer in midair. “Party at the Pier,” she read. “Catered by the Hell Hut.”
“No wonder they’re not here.” Tally’s ocean blue eyes grew. “So much for taking the day off.”
“Evil never sleeps,” Abby said in dour tones.
“
tonight,” Evelina read on. “Music, dancing, and good eats.”
Abby scrunched up her face. “I thought the tournament was to promote good health? So much for that message getting through.”
Tally squinted down the beach in the direction of the pier. “They must be down there now setting up.”
“Look!” Abby pointed skyward.
A huge red banner with the words Hell Hut emblazoned in orange flames sailed behind a seaplane over the sparkling
Atlantic
.
Evelina cupped one hand up to block out the sun.
Impressive.
Not to mention expensive.
They’d have to sell a pile of weenies to pay for that.
She would have sworn it was impossible, if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.
***
That night at the pier Judy and Suzie cranked out weenies faster than a sausage factory.
“That thing must be enchanted.” Abby whispered against Evelina’s ear as they watched the steady line at the Hell Hut’s weenie cart. “How else could they spit them out so fast?”
The smell of hotdogs polluted the salty air. Stars twinkled above the white lights strung along pier. The carnival sounds of calypso music played over the rush of the surf in the distance.
“Hey! Check it out.” Abby gave Evelina an elbow jab in the ribs. “Look who’s here.”
Evelina turned, expecting to spy Frankie and Cliff, who’d promised to meet them there.
Instead, Ronny and Donny Cupid, a.k.a. the Dirty Diaper Gang, swaggered by with cocky grins plastered across their freckled faces, craning their long necks to leer at every bikini-clad body that came their way.
Evelina glanced over their curly nut heads. If they were here, Wendell Barnes couldn’t be far behind. He always kept his trusty henchmen close by.
She turned around to head the other way and there he was.
Wendell smiled. “Evening, ladies.” He could pour on the charm when he wanted to.
Tally took a step back.
Abby’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are.” Wendell drawled, “Partaking of the local culture.”
Abby folded her arms across her chest, raising one dark brow. “I didn’t know you could dance.”
Wendell’s gaze slid up and down Evelina, causing a shiver to snake through her. “I can do almost anything with the right partner.”
What did that mean?
Hopefully, not what it sounded like!
Which meant, Wendell was morally deficient as well as delusional.
“Later, hog boy!” Abby grabbed Evelina by the arm, yanking her through the crowd.
Evelina wasn’t about to protest.
The thought of Wendell having a thing for her made her skin crawl.
But she’d never let him know that.
He enjoyed making people squirm.
A good reason to avoid him at all cost.
Chapter Seven
Music and laughter danced along the ocean air.
Somehow Evelina got lost in the crush.
One minute Abby and Tally were ahead of her—the next, they were gone.
The crowd swallowed them up.
The pier was jam packed with golden bodies, reeking of coconut oil. Bursts of color in every shade met her eye, mango, orange, grass green, dazzling white. Bright laughter and shouts turned her head as she threaded her way along the pier under the strings of white lights.
She hopped in the air, searching for Abby and Tally. Abby was tall. That head of glossy black hair should be easy to spot.
But instead, Evelina found someone she didn’t want.
She sucked in a sharp gasp.
Leviticus Wilkes.
Frankie’s trainer.
This couldn’t be good.
No doubt he was here with some dire warning—stay away from his prodigy or else.
She’d been down this road before. It was dank and dirty—a trail she’d rather not travel again—especially tonight. She was supposed to be having fun.
She made a sharp right.
The last thing she wanted was some pointless confrontation. Did he really think he could make Frankie Holler do something he didn’t want to? She hadn’t known Frankie long, but even she realized how bull-headed and stubborn he could be.
What made Wilkes believe she had any influence over what Frankie did or didn’t do? Frankie was a law onto himself. Nothing would change that.
But then again, neither would running from Wilkes. He was a Time Keeper’s trainer, for God’s sake! What was the point?
Evelina did an about face.
Not such a great plan.
As it turned out, she collided with the foot of someone heading south.
She grabbed the post of an awning to keep upright, coming nose to nose with Psycho Sally.
Evelina’s pulse raced.
Crap!
Sally interrupted her reading to clamp an icy hand around Evelina’s arm to steady her.
Evelina came upright fast.
She gulped in air, attempting to catch her breath. “Sorry!” she squeaked out between rasps. “Are you alright?”
Sally cracked a slow smile, turning her eyes to pale slits. “No harm done.” She sliced a glance at the chintz cup in her hand. “It’s fortunate I’m reading the leaves and not the tea.”
Her customer, a young man with curly black hair, held up both hands and grinned. “I’m good.”
Evelina didn’t wait to hear more.
She continued to squeeze her way through the crowd, up the pier, away from the riot of music and laughter.
She glanced over her shoulder when her feet hit the sand.
Leviticus Wilkes was nowhere in sight.
She turned back around.
And there he was, all tall dark and foreboding, black duster flapping in the wind, blue eyes turned to
.
Damn!
“Alright.” She heaved a sigh of surrender. “What do you want?”
His dark gaze locked onto her with steady concentration for a long moment before he said in a deep baritone, “I’m here to deliver a message.”
“Clearly.” It was difficult to control her annoyance. “And what would that be?” As if she couldn’t guess.
“Frankie’s parents would like to meet you.”
“What?”
Alright.
So she couldn’t have guessed.
It took a moment to get her brain working again. “Why?”
“Why, indeed,” Wilkes bit out. “I have expressly advised against it, but they believe they can reason with you. I have advised them you are an inexperienced novice, but they insist on giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
Evelina’s blood rose. “Well, that was rude.” She pushed down her annoyance and did her best to remain calm. “But apparently you have no social skills, so I’ll let it go.” Hopefully she could trust him to pass on a message. “Tell Mr. and Mrs. Holler that there is no need for us to meet. There’s nothing between Frankie and I. So they can stop worrying.”
“They want what’s best for their son,” Wilkes said through tight lips. “They have high hopes for him, as do I.”
“Does he know that you’re here?”
“He won’t be surprised, if that’s what you mean.” Wilkes flashed a tight smile. “He knows what’s expected of him. Traditions are there for a reason—to protect the bloodline.”
“Really? I’m curious as to how that all works. I mean with all this interference how do Time Keepers get happily married and reproduce? Where do all the little Time Keepers come from?”
“Time Keepers do not marry for love,” he said in clipped tones. “They are matched—a domestic arrangement of sorts that does not interfere with their duties. Understand?”
She understood alright.
Frankie was engaged.
The news hit her like a sledge hammer in the chest.
“Wow,” was all she could manage to utter.
How cold was that?
A flicker of something akin to remorse altered Wilkes’ features before they closed again. “His mate was chosen at birth. He is betrothed.”
“Mate?” Her belly twisted. “Is that what you call her?”
“There is a contract in place.” Wilkes bit out each word distinctly. “It cannot be broken.”
Evelina blinked back at him, hardly hearing what he said.
“I’ll deliver your message,” Wilkes said.
Then...
Poof!
He was gone.
Evelina stared at the spot he’d been, trying to swallow what he said.
Frankie was engaged?
Why hadn’t he told her?
The whole thing was a bit weird, but at least Frankie’s parents cared about him—in a twisted, control freak sort of way. She couldn’t fault them for that. Although, driving him into a lather wasn’t exactly model parenting, either was forcing him down the aisle with a stranger.
Yet, she’d never heard him complain. Maybe it was his nature to run through life full tilt. Maybe he hadn’t told her about the engagement because he hadn’t agreed. If he had he would have certainly told her.
Wouldn’t he?
Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding.
His parents were tenacious. She’d give them that. At least he had parents. Luckily, she still had Grammy Crimm—in a way. She couldn’t touch her or hug her, but she still had their Cosmic Calls every month.
Evelina lifted her hand to touch the black pearl ring on the chain around her neck.
But there was nothing there.
Her heart stopped.
It was gone.
She searched her neck and throat in disbelief.
She retraced her steps, covering every inch of the ground.
Where could it be?
Her belly twisted.
She had to find it!
It was the only way she could talk to Grammy Crimm.
She went cold.
Her head began to swim.
It felt as though she was losing her all over again.
No! No! No!
This couldn’t be!
She needed that ring!
***
The hollow echo of voices bounced along the night breeze. Vendors slid bolts and clicked locks, closing up shop in the
Old
City
. The scent of roasted pecans and hot peppers followed Evelina down the brick-lined street.
She halted in front of the tattoo parlor, pressing her nose to the cool glass of the window. The place was as dark as a black hole. She couldn’t see a thing. The glare from the bronze street lamp above didn’t help.
Damn!
She needed to find Psycho Sally.
She hunkered down, cupping her hands around her eyes to get a better look.
Nothing but darkness—not even a shadow.
The splinter of breaking glass startled her.
She stumbled back.
A hand clamped down on her arm.
Her heart leapt to her throat.
She spun round.
Frankie.
Thank God!
His golden hair glowed like a halo under the street lamp. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Looking for my ring,” she rasped, coming to her feet. “I lost it near Psycho Sally’s tent. I thought maybe she picked it up. But when I realized it was gone, she’d already packed up and left. So, I came here.”
“You should have told me.” He looked over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have come alone!”
“I couldn’t tell you?” she whispered fiercely. “Because I didn’t know where you were.”
“Right.” He grinned. “Sorry. I meant to make it to the pier, but Cliff and I got held up.”
Not a complete explanation, but he was never too good at those. “What are you doing here, Frankie?”
“Following a lead.”
“Right.” Something else he hadn’t bothered to share. It was difficult to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Another top secret Time Keeper mystery I guess.”
“Something like that.”
The sound of running feet stopped her from smiling back. “Shhh!” Evelina put a finger to her lips. “Did you hear that?”
The pad of heavy feet grew louder.
“Someone’s coming.” Frankie yanked her around the corner of the building.
The footfalls grew closer, accompanied by a great deal of panting.
“Shut up!” She heard a tenor voice say. It sounded like Donny.
What was the Dirty Diaper Gang doing here? It couldn’t be good, whatever it was. Wherever they went, trouble followed.
Ronny knocked on the door.
“What are you doing here?” It sounded like Psycho Sally. “I told you never to come here.”
“We have a message for you,” Ronny said.
“Hey! What was that?”
“Did you hear that?”
“Who’s there?”
“Time to go.” Frankie clamped his hands around Evelina’s waist. “Hang on.”
No sooner had she lifted her arms around his neck did her feet leave the ground. They rose up and up and up, until the city was miles below. Evelina’s head grew dizzy. Her limbs quivered. A faint giddiness encompassed every molecule of her flesh.
